The Ties That Bind
by Eccentricity97
Summary: After hiding an infidelity while her husband was at war, Annabelle and Jacob Montel are just getting to repairing their broken relationship. But when a gang of pirates attack her family, and begin using her as bait for Jack Sparrow and Joseph Teague-a pirate she's never heard of-she wonders whether it is worth it to try. Sequel to "The Free and The Unattainable" JackxOC
1. Fear

**Note: **_Hey everyone! Welcome o the next installment of Annabelle's adventure! In lieu of other things, I decided to discontinue my other story to begin this one. Sorry! I hope you enjoy this though! Be sure to follow, review, and favorite! :)_

Annabelle Montel sighed, staring out the window of the sitting room of her west Ireland manor, her hands lightly resting on her swollen belly. According to Doctor Mclaughlan, her child was due any day now. It was a day that she feared more than any other. Though she and her husband had lain together many a night before the day her pregnancy was confirmed, she was afraid that another night, in a place miles from where they now lived, was actually the cause. The possibility that Captain Jack Sparrow, infamous pirate, was the actual father of the child that lay in her belly was something she feared very greatly indeed.

Her husband, Jacob, was ecstatic. He looked very forward to becoming a father, something that he'd undoubtedly do well at. He was quite gentle and caring, when not in his military post of Commodore. She prayed that his efforts weren't going to be used on a child who did not actually belong to him.

She turned around, hearing the creak of the large wooden door that led to the outer halls. It was Mary, the nursemaid that Jacob had hired in anticipation for the child's birth. She looked at Annabelle with a kind curiosity under her strong black brows, her green eyes filled with sympathy.

"Are you alright, ma'am?" she asked, walking quietly into the room and sitting next to her mistress.

"What? Oh, yes, I'm quite fine, thank you," Annabelle replied, looking briefly at the woman who would take over most of the mothering responsibility after her child was born.

"Now, ma'am, I'm very near thirty years of age, and I've cared for many an expecting mother. I think I should be able to tell when somethin's gone amiss," her voice, coated with an Irish brogue, was kindly stern. "Come now, tell Mary what's wrong."  
The maid took one of Annabelle's slim, fair hands in both of her darker ones. Annabelle gave the Irish woman a wan smile. Mary returned it in turn, though brighter, her features motherly and strong.

"I'm…I'm so frightened, Mary," Annabelle said, her voice wavering and tears filling her eyes. "What-what if-?"

"Now, now, my dear, there's nothin' to worry about. Everythin' will be fine. I promise. It's not the birth you should be worryin' about. It's everythin' after that!" Mary gave a soft chuckle, lightening the mood slightly.

Annabelle silently leaned into the dark Irish woman, resting her head against her shoulder. The maid wrapped her arms around the eighteen year old auburn haired girl, whispering words of comfort in her ear. Annabelle let the tears, and her fear, escape from her eyes. Mary simply held her, letting her express all the emotion she'd been bottling up for nine months. Lord knows, she'd probably been through enough of this in all her years of work, but she remained uncomplaining. It was times like this that Annabelle wished she'd grown up with Mary as a mother, rather than Catherine Crowe, a fair haired, emotionally distant woman nearing her forties. Annabelle had grown up with very little outward affection from the woman, and had often wondered if she held any for her in that regard. That thought prompted a question for Mary.

"Do you have any children of your own?" she asked, looking up into the maid's green eyes.  
Mary smiled gently. "Aye, two boys and a girl. My husband died near about five years ago. My boys are nearly grown, my girl's gettin' there too, now I think about it. Just passed her first birthday last month."

"Is it difficult?" Annabelle asked. "Do you…do you not hold the same love for them as you did when they were born?"

Mary's eyes widened in shock. "Lord, no! I love them with every bit of me heart and soul, ma'am. They're my life, always have been, always will be."

"Do you think I'll be a good mother?" Annabelle asked, truly wanting to know the answer.

"Aye, I think you will," Mary replied sincerely, giving Annabelle a quick squeeze. "You're holdin' a lot of love in that young heart of yours. It's just burstin' to give it to someone. Your husband and baby are very lucky to have such a caring woman in their lives."

Annabelle returned the squeeze, incredibly grateful that this woman had come into her life. A woman who wouldn't turn her concerns away as imprudent, a woman who gave helpful advice, a woman who acted like a mother.

Mary took her hand, pulling her up from her seat.

"Come," she said, leading her to the door. "I've somethin' to show you."

Annabelle walked with her down the hall down the west wing of the manor, just past the chambers that she and Jacob shared. She had to keep looking at her feet so as to not trip over the skirts of her pale blue gown. Feeling a little winded, they arrived outside the door, at which time Mary covered her eyes with her hands.

"I'll tell you when you can look," she whispered, slowly leading Annabelle into the room.

When Mary uncovered her eyes, it was all Annabelle could do not to cry. It had been transformed from a guest room into a nursery. A cradle padded with softly knitted blankets lay next to the western wall and a beautifully designed oak rocking chair sat in front of the one rather large window overlooking the hills that constituted the manor's grounds. A small wooden chest held a small collection of children's toys, and the room held an overall new air of warmth and coziness that hadn't been present before.

Annabelle turned, wrapping her arms around the nursemaid, nearly knocking her over due to her own pregnant belly.

"Oh!" Mary exclaimed, hugging the young girl back, laughing. "I thought you'd like it!"

"It's beautiful, Mary, thank you so much!" Annabelle cried, laughing and crying at the same time.

"Now now, enough of all this cryin'! The comin' of a child is a time for celebration, not sadness! Let's go-"

They both turned to see Catherine Crowe standing in the doorway, looking poised and prim as ever. She looked at Mary coldly, nodding her head, excusing her from the room. Mary nodded back respectfully, quickly exiting from the women's presence. Catherine approached her daughter, careful not to wrinkle her plum colored gown, and greeted her with a chaste peck on the cheek. Annabelle returned the gesture, though half-heartedly.

"Hello, Mother," she said, looking down again at her swollen stomach.

"Hello, Annabelle. How are you?" her mother asked, taking her hand and leading her from the room, shutting the door crisply behind them.

"Fine, Mother. Everyone is fine. When did you arrive? I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you, but Mary was just showing me-"

"It's no matter, dear," Catherine cut her off, waving her hand dismissively. "you're busy, I'm sure." her voice held a tone that suggested otherwise.

]"Yes, I have been distracted lately," Annabelle replied, ignoring her mother's rather rude tone of voice. "The baby is due any day now, and-"

"Yes, I'm quite aware," Catherine cut her off rather sharply, and sat in a plush room, having entered the sitting room again. "That's the precise reason I came here, Annabelle. I intend to assist in the birth of my grandchild."

"You didn't go to Daniel's house when his wife was pregnant," Annabelle said, annoyed that her mother had taken it upon herself to arrive unannounced, when she hadn't intruded so rudely on her older brother's wife.

"That was different," her mother replied impatiently. "Virginia's mother was already assisting the process. I intend to be there for yours."

The muscles in Annabelle's abdomen tightened suddenly, all of her body clenching up with it. She'd been feeling the contractions for days, her doctor had told her that it was her body preparing for birth. For some reason, these were different. Another contraction overcame her, and her mother began to look alarmed.

"What is it, Annabelle?" she asked urgently, taking her daughter's hand tightly.

"I think…you're just in time Mother," Annabelle replied through clenched teeth. "I think…the time is now."


	2. A Welcome

Annabelle moaned in pain as another contraction ripped through her, each one becoming more painful than the last. The midwife was yet to arrive, and Dr. Mclaughlan had sent a letter ahead, letting them know he might arrive late. Annabelle was alone in her chambers with only Mary, the nursemaid, and her mother, Catherine.

"Breathe, Annabelle, just take deep breaths," her mother said impatiently, as if she should know how to deal with the birth of a child already.

"She's right, dear, just breathe real slow-yes just like that," Mary said softly, trying to help the girl remain calm and reduce pain. Catherine gave her a rather sharp look before turning the attention back to her daughter.

Annabelle was beginning to sweat profusely, dampening the sheets and making her even more uncomfortable. Mary noticed this, and walked quickly to the bedside table and pulled a cloth from a bowl of water that was lying there in preparation for the midwife and doctor. She laid it across Annabelle's forehead, prompting a rather delirious sounding thank you from the girl.

"Don't mention it, ma'am," she replied swiftly, taking one of Annabelle's clenched hands in her own. "You just focus on breathin' now, the doctor will be here soon. It's goin' to be alright, just-"

She stopped abruptly midsentence, and looked towards the door in shock and embarassment. A young girl, no more than four, had wandered in, a small doll in her hand, dressed in a rather plain gown. Her long, light brown hair fell about her shoulders and she looked rather confused as to where she was. As she spotted Mary, her features lit up.

"Mumma!" she cried, running to the nursemaid and wrapping herself around her legs.

"Roisin!" Mary said in surprise, letting go of Annabelle's hand to pick the little girl up. "What're you doin' here, little one?"

"Charlie took me. He said that he had some things to do, so he brought me here."

"Stupid boy," Mary muttered, nuzzling the girl gently before saying, "let's get you some food, eh? I'm sure Annie will give you something from the kitchen."

"Wait," Annabelle moaned, her hands tightening to fists. "Don't…leave me."

Mary chuckled, looking back at the tense girl. "I'll be back. I promise."

She swiftly left the room, the young girl in her arms. Annabelle turned grudgingly to her mother, whose face was set in tight lines. She brushed a gray-blonde curl from her face before speaking.

"Really, you'd think she'd keep better track of her children. Irresponsible, Irish-"

"Her husband died," Annabelle cut her off, gritting her teeth in pain. "she's… got no other way."

"She should find someone to keep watch over them, for God's sake!" Catherine replied testily, straightening her gown about her lap.

"How would she pay them? She doesn't get nearly enough to sustain herself, let alone her family and a stranger."

This seem to strike her mother as true, as she became silent, waiting for the Irish woman's return. They sat like that for a few minutes, the only sound Annabelle's ragged breathing. Soon Mary returned, accompanied by Doctor Mclaughlan, and the midwife, a rather stern looking woman near her mother's age. Her brown hair was tied tightly back and she sharply sat down at the edge of bed, pulling equipment out of a black leather bag.  
Annabelle looked frantically for Mary, whom for some reason she could not spot. The nursemaid soon appeared by her side, smiling gently.

"I'm here, love," she said softly, stroking Annabelle's matted, sweaty hair from her forehead. "It's goin' to be alright."

Annabelle sighed, turning to the doctor, who had lifted the edge of the night gown she'd hastily changed in to, and put his fingers inside her, measuring how far along she was in labor. He pulled them out, wiping his hands off on a cloth, and nodded to the midwife, who took his place in front of her.

"You need to push now," her voice was calm, business like.

Annabelle looked confusedly at her mother, who seemed to have no advice for this part, and merely stared at her skirts. Mary however, took the opportunity to lean down and begin whispering instructions into the frightened girl's ear. Annabelle gritted her teeth and pushed, her muscles tightening, screaming as she felt herself tearing open to allow her child entrance into the world. This occurred many more times, her mother staring idly, and Mary whispering gently words to ease her somewhat through the pain. With a final push, she could feel it, her baby, slide out of her. She heard the midwife slap it firmly on the buttocks, jump starting it to life.

The child screamed loudly, crying out to the world its existence. Annabelle layed her head back on the pillows, closing her eyes, hot salty tears pouring from underneath them. She felt Mary nudge her gently, and she opened them again. Mary was smiling brightly, her green eyes swimming, her black hair slightly sweaty as well.

"He's beautiful, Annabelle," she said gently, calling the girl for the first time by her first name. "Your boy is so beautiful. Look at him."

Annabelle turned her head slightly, to see the midwife holding her crying son in her arms. Annabelle felt an undeniable need to hold the child, and she reached her arms out feebly. The midwife carefully placed him into her arms, and Annabelle looked into the scrunched up, slightly grayish, beautiful face of her first born child. A son. He quieted as he recognized his mother, and he looked at her with inquisitive, _dark brown eyes_.

Her heart stopped. Her worst fears had come true. She'd given birth to Jack Sparrow's child. She stared at the infant, mouth agape. Her mother spoke again for the first time since she'd started pushing.

"He's got your grandfather's eyes," she said, peering down at the now gurgling baby. "My father had the most beautiful brown eyes."

Annabelle let out the breath she'd been holding in relief, and lightly kissed her son on the forhead. Maybe she was wrong, it was just her grandfather's eyes staring at her. The thought filled her with gratefulness, and she began to weep again.

"We need to clean him," the doctor said, reaching down for the baby, gently taking it from Annabelle's arms.

She followed him as he walked to the bowl filled with water on her bed side table, taking a cloth and carefully wiping him clean. The infant began to cry again, and she wanted desperately to hold him, to make him stop. But she waited patiently until the doctor had finished. He surprised her by handing her son to Mary, who smiled, looking endearingly at the whimpering child.

"Hello, little one," she whispered, putting a pinky into his mouth. "Welcome to the World."

Annabelle looked at Mary curiously, remembering an earlier event.

"I thought you said your daughter was one?" she asked, turning slightly to face the nursemaid.

Mary laughed loudly. "Aye, to me she is. I can't bear to think of her any older than that."

Annabelle chuckled softly and closed her eyes. It was over. It was finally over.


	3. Names and Curiosity

**Note:** _This is just a chapter to describe some of Annabelle's curiosities about mothering before I really get the ball rolling! Secondly, the song at the bottom is a real song, but my computer won't let me put the accents on it. Thirdly, dear Mary the nursemaid is based off of a singer of the same name whom I adore. Can you guess who she is? If you can, I'll PM you to get a short description of yourself so I can put you in my story! Good luck! :)_

Jacob sat next to Annabelle on their bed, marveling at the miracle that'd occurred just hours before. He'd sprinted to her as soon as he'd arrived from town to their home. He'd taken their son into his arms, shaking slightly, and looked for a moment as if he were going to burst into tears.

"He's beautiful," he said softly, his voice wavering a bit. "What shall we call him?"

Annabelle thought for a moment, wracking her brain for a suggestion. She hadn't really taken the time to think of any names for her child, seeing as she was in denial for three months of her pregnancy.

"Joseph," she finally said, looking up at her husband. "Joseph Jacob. For my father, and for his own."

Jacob smiled at her, his bright emerald eyes gleaming with pride. He'd removed his wig, and he sat bareheaded, his chestnut hair unruly and matted. Yet he looked more beautiful in that moment to Annabelle than any time before. A man completely content with the world, with his life, full of love for his family. She felt good that she could give this moment to him, and her heart swelled with love for both him and her son. She gently took the child from her husband, and cradled him tightly to her chest.

She gazed at Joseph, memorizing every single feature she could reach. He had large, dark brown eyes, which were closed at the moment, and a soft down of hair close to the auburn of Annabelle's, though slightly darker than her own. His lips were perfect and soft, as was his pink skin. She leaned down and gingerly kissed his forehead. He stirred slightly in his blankets, and settled down again, his long dark lashes brushing against his round cheeks. Annabelle felt completely content, and as Jacob lay next to her on the sea of sheets of their bed, any thought of Jack Sparrow was expelled to the deepest realms of unconscious thought.

"Feedin' time!" Mary cooed to Joseph, who was screeching out in his hunger. She pulled him from his cradle, rocking him gently in her arms. Annabelle entered the nursery quietly, watching as Mary settled down in the oak rocking chair to feed her son. She turned, having heard Annabelle enter.

"Is there somethin' you need, ma'am?" she asked, adjusting Joseph in her arms.

"Well…I've been meaning to ask you…I'd like to see how you feed a baby." Annabelle felt rather embarrassed in asking this, one for intruding on an event that seemed rather private, and two, because she did not know how it was done.

Mary looked slightly surprised. "Well..um…I guess, if you wish, dear. I suppose a mother should know how to feed a child. Come over here." she gestured to the window sill, which would face Annabelle directly in front of her.

Annabelle obediently sat, smoothing the skirts of her green gown out as she did. She'd requested to not have a corset until her figure had transformed into a somewhat normal shape, which she hoped would happen in the next few months. She felt rather…well…pudgy after giving birth. She hoped it was normal.

She face Mary quietly, watching intently the process of feeding an infant.

"I have to warn you ma'am, this will be exposin' some things I wouldn't be exposin' otherwise." Mary warned her before beginning.

Annabelle simply nodded, waiting rather eagerly to be shown one of the most intimate points of mothering.

Mary slowly unbuttoned the first six buttons on the front of her dress, exposing the underdress, which she slid downward, exposing a swollen breast. Looking at Annabelle apprehensively, she gently brought Joseph's head up to it, coaxing him to it with her dark nipple. He latched on eagerly after a few seconds, and Annabelle could hear him suckling loudly and gratefully.

Mary looked up at Annabelle, a little shyly this time.

"That's all there is to it, ma'am," she said.

Annabelle nodded, soaking in the process, making sure never to forget it. This process seemed very important in bonding as well as food.

"How do you still have milk? I thought only new mothers had it?" she asked, looking at Mary curiously for the answer.

"Well, I started nursin' babies after my first son, Logan, was born. Just before he finished his use of it, I began to nurse another baby for another family. The milk just keeps coming til you don't need it. So with each baby I nurse, on top of my own, I've been leakin' milk for years. I feel like a bloody _cow_ sometimes, to be honest." she chuckled, adjusting Joseph about her breast. "'Scuse my language, ma'am."

Annabelle dismissed it with a laugh of her own, and rose from the window sill. She patted the nursemaid's arm as she exited the nursery.

"Tis nothin', dear," she replied gently, looking out the window and beginning to softly sing a lullaby. Annabelle paused a moment to listen.

_I would I were in yonder hill,_  
_It's there I'd sit and cry my fill_  
_And every tear would turn the mill;_  
_Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan_  
_Siul, siul, siul a run,_  
_Siul go socair agus siul go ciuin _  
_Siul go doras agus ealaigh liom,_  
_Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan…_

Annabelle felt goosebumps run up her back and arms. She had no idea how beautiful Mary's voice was. The song's melody brought forth a deep feeling of sadness and grief for her for some unknown reason. She walked down the hall silently, tears filling her eyes.


	4. A Trip

**Note:** _Hey guys! First off, the idea of the Spain v. England war was kind of stolen from "Learning How to Run" (Which you should totally check out!) And secondly, dear Jack will be making an appearance soon, don't worry!_

The carriage bounced along the pebbled dirt road out of town, carrying inside it Annabelle, Joseph, and Mary, the nursemaid, as well as her daughter Roisin. The two children stared out of the two curtained windows on either side, gazing at the coast of the Irish sea and the fields, green with summer, near it.

"Thank you for lettin' me send her with you, ma'am," Mary said gratefully, brushing a strand of black hair out of her eyes. "Charlie's workin' now, and I don't have anyone to watch her."

"It's no inconvienience, Mary," Annabelle smiled at the woman who had become a mother to her, and an excellent care taker to her child. "I daresay Joseph likes having his friend around more often."

Mary chuckled, looking lovingly at the two children. "Yes, I would think so too."

Mary had begun working with another family a few miles out from the Montel's. The McCaphrey's had just given birth to a second child, a boy. Mary's services had been requested by the mother, Mairead. She'd had Mary suggested to her by Annabelle herself, and by the family she'd worked with directly after the Montels, the O'Reillys.

In lieu of the new prospect, Annabelle had offered to take care of Mary's eight year old daughter in the mean time. Needless to say, Joseph was very excited. He enjoyed playing with the bright young lass. She always had new ideas for games, and was very intelligent as well as curious. She always had a way to surprise Joseph with a new thought or game. Annabelle, in truth, rather liked having the girl around. She often wondered, though she loved her son to world's end and back, what it would be like to have a daughter.

As they arrived at the manor, Annabelle spotted Jacob talking to his father, General Charles Montel. Their lips moved frantically, and Jacob looked rather upset. Upon seeing his father, Joseph shoved the carriage door open with his small arms and ran as fast as his stubby legs would carry him.

"Papa!" he shouted, throwing himself around his father's boots.

Jacob looked down in surprise, and upon seeing the auburn haired boy, scooped him up into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"How's my little Joe?" asked, and he scanned the boy's face, admiring his every feature.

"Rosie's going to stay with us!" Joseph exclaimed, a large smile lighting up his features.

Jacob looked toward the carriage, and upon seeing the brown haired girl, smiled gently.

"She is? Well, I bet both of you are very hungry. Why don't you both go ask Annie for something to eat? She just brought in some apples."

"Come on Rosie!" Joseph cried, wriggling from his father's grip and motioning to Roisin, who was just jumping out of the carriage after kissing her mother goodbye. She hurried after Joseph, though excusing herself to the two men before entering the house. Both soldiers smiled politely at the girl, and then returned to their discussion.

Annabelle bid goodbye to Mary, telling the carriage driver to take her to the McCaphrey's. With a crack of the whip, they were off.  
As Annabelle walked down the path to where her husband and father in law stood, she felt a sense of foreboding come over her. When she looked into Jacob's emerald eyes, it burst into all-out fear.

"What is it?" she asked in a hushed voice, though deep inside she'd rather not know the answer.

Jacob shook his head. "Not here," he said softly, leading both his wife and father upstairs to his office chambers.

After Charles had shut the door behind them, Jacob turned to face her, sadness and anger showing in every crease of his face.

"England's going to war with Spain," he said, leaning against the edge of his mahogany desk. "I'm to be shipped off tomorrow."

"What?" Annabelle exclaimed. "Why did you not tell me before?"

"We were just now informed," Charles said gravely, his hazel eyes cast downward.

"I-I don't-what will we do without you? What am I to tell Joseph?" Annabelle's voice, though she tried to control it, was becoming rather hysterical.

"Hush," Jacob said gently, striding to her and holding her arms, looking into her blue eyes. "You'll survive, like you always do. You survived a month with a pirate, I'm sure you can handle a four year old boy."

He chuckled sadly, and wrapped his arms around his wife, burying his face in her hair. Annabelle breathed deep, willing herself not to cry. Though another man held her heart somewhere on the open sea, Jacob had become her closest confidante, and she could say without hesitation that she loved him. She could not bear to think what she would do if he died in battle.

"We'll tell him that I'm going on another one of my trips," Jacob whispered into her hair. "we'll say I'll be back soon."

Annabelle sighed into her husband's chest and pulled away to look into his eyes.

"Know that I love you," he said, his eyes imploring her not to cry.

"And I you," Annabelle replied, keeping her tears in check though her voice wavered.

He leaned down and kissed her gently, and Charles politely averted his eyes for a moment. When they pulled away, they both laughed, forcing themselves to be happy despite the disconcerting news. They all exited the office, walking to the sitting room where the maids had just set out a tray of tea for the adults. Frances, a young maid who spent half of her time cooking and the other time reprimanding Joseph, came out to serve it.

"Thank you," Annabelle said politely, taking a cup and saucer from the blonde woman. She gave a polite nod and walked back to the kitchen after the two men refused the drink.

Joseph came galumphing into the room, Roisin in pursuit, from the halls that led to the grounds. Both of the children were brandishing sticks, yelling excitedly.

"Arrrgh! I'm a pirate Mumma! Look!" Joseph cried, laughing out as Roisin attempted to run him through with her "sword".

All of the adults laughed, amused with the idea. Annabelle knew that their minds were all in the same place. Her mind flashed to the face of Jack Sparrow, his dark brown eyes, much like Joseph's, twinkling mischievously. How odd, that piracy thrilled the young boy, much like his mother had felt nearly five years before.

Deep in her mind, she knew that they were the pirate captain's eyes looking at her, not her grandfather's. She felt shame for it, but Jacob, if he had any inkling, had never showed it. He loved that boy with all of his heart, and she wasn't about to jeopardize that for anything. She gestured to the children to sit down next to her. They both did, though rather loudly.

"Hush now," Annabelle said, kindly stern. "your Papa has something to say, Joseph."

Joseph and Roisin stopped abruptly, sitting at rapt attention, staring at Jacob. The man smiled sadly before beginning.

"Papa's going to be going on a trip," he said, clearing his throat, searching for a way to continue.

"A trip? Where? Can I come? Can I bring Rosie with me?" Joseph asked excitedly, squirming in his seat, his chubby legs not yet long enough to touch the ground.

Jacob looked as if his heart were breaking. "No, Joe, I can't take you with me. This is a trip only for grown-ups. But I'm going to be back as soon as I can. Then you, me, Mumma, and Roisin and Mary can all take a trip together. How does that sound?"

"All right," Joseph replied, though rather sulkily. "Will you bring me something back?"

"Of course I will," Jacob replied, a smile at his lips now. "Come here, Little Joe." he held out his arms to his son, who jumped up excitedly to meet them.

He held the boy in his arms, stroking his auburn hair, his green eyes swimming visibly with tears. He blinked them back, sniffing slightly. He pulled himself back, forcing a laugh.

"Your Grandpapa's here too, Joe," he said, nodding towards Charles. "He's going to come with me too. Do you want to say goodbye?"  
Joseph nodded quickly, climbing over Jacob's lap to get to his grandfather. He hugged the man quickly around the neck, and turned back to Roisin, eager to get their game started again.

"Love you Papa," he said quickly before jumping up, grabbing his stick and running to the entrance of the hallways. "Come on Rosie!"

Roisin jumped up, stick in hand, and ran after the boy, resuming their game of pirates.

Annabelle looked sadly at the two men, setting her saucer and cup down on the tray, her tea having gone cold.

That night, Jacob and Annabelle made love, the last time in what would be several months. Afterwards, they simply held each other, on to what little time they had left together.


	5. Memories

**Note: **_Hey! I've compiled a sort of soundtrack to Annabelle's adventures! Check them out on my profile if you'd like! :)_

Annabelle held Joseph and Roisin's hands as they waved goodbye to the ship that was taking Jacob Montel steadily away from them. She hastily wiped her tears away, trying to be strong in front of the children. Roisin looked up, her greenish-brown eyes inquisitive and calm.

"Don't worry ma'am," she said, in the kind of tone only eight year olds can seem to muster in times of stress. "He'll be back. I can feel it. He's strong."

Annabelle smiled at the girl, squeezing her hand gently. Roisin returned it, every bit as kind and bright as her mother's. Joseph was staring out at the sea, squinting hard so as to get a look at the slowly disappearing ship. Or maybe not. He sniffed loudly, running his sleeve across his eyes.  
Annabelle released Roisin's hand to pick up her son, cradling him to her navy-clad chest.

"It's all right, Joseph," she whispered. "It's okay. He'll come back, I promise. You have to be strong for me. Can you do that?"

"Mmhm," Joseph nodded, sniffling loudly.

"Good boy. Now let's go home, it's nearly time for tea." Annabelle adjusted Joseph to her hip, and took Roisin's hand with her free one, taking them back to their carriage.

When they arrived home, Roisin took Joseph's hand, leading him to his room to play with his toys while they waited for tea. Annabelle took a seat in the sitting room, staring blankly out of the window. Frances startled her when she entered the room, brandishing a letter in her hand.

"T'was just delivered ma'am," she said, out of breath. "I was told you were to read it immediately."

"Thank you, Frances, " Annabelle nodded politely, dismissing the maid back to her duties.

She looked down at the envelope, and her heart dropped to her feet. It could not be. It was not possible. It was not…

The postage read:

_Sir Joshamee Gibbs,_  
_The Black Pearl_

Annabelle hastily ripped open the letter, being sure no one was watching, and read the paper, mouthing the words to herself.

_Dear Anna,_  
_I'm using Mister Gibbs here as my personal scribe and addressee for this letter, so as to reduce the chances of my being caught. I write to express the great surprise I feel after having found out about your and the Commodore's son. After what occurred in Greece, I thought it was only right to at least ask about the boy. _  
_Secondly, I'm writing to let you know that I'll be making port in the dear land of Eirin in a few weeks time, depending on when you receive this parcel. I would very much like to see you, luv. The expected arrival date is June 21st. Do not feel a need to send back a written response. Just show up. If not, then I'll know where we stand since we last spoke._

_Capt. Jack Sparrow_

Below the sign off was the adress of the inn they would be staying at, completed with an elegant scrawl that Annabelle knew was Jack's. She held the letter in shaking hands, reading the words over and over again. He knew. How could he know about Joseph? She'd heard people whisper things over the years, questioning his relation to Jacob, but she'd always ignored it. It seemed the word of mouth was faster than she thought.

June 21st. That was in six days. She had six days to decide whether she really wanted to go, though her heart had decided already. She wanted with all her heart to see the dark man who had left her, his hat waving in the Caribbean breeze, nearly five years earlier. She folded the letter and hid it hastily away in her skirts as Joseph and Roisin sauntered into the room for tea. The sat down, waiting quietly and patiently as Annie and Frances entered with trays of tea and cookies.

The time had come. She was going to meet Jack Sparrow. The inn was located two towns over. She'd bid Frances the task of watching Joseph and Roisin for the two days she would be gone. As she sat in the bouncing carriage, her mind flew through all the memories she held of the pirate. The most memorable had been the night of her defloration, the night that had given her Joseph, her precious boy. She could still feel his lean muscles against her, could hear his heavy breathing as he put himself inside her, could see his beautiful chocolate eyes, sparkling in the low lighting of the cavern.

The driver pulled up to the inn, and nodded curtly to her before finding a place to store the horses. It was under the name of Gilligan's Hand, and each time the doors open, she could hear bits of fiddling and singing, as well as smell rather strong pipe smoke. She braced herself, lifting her purple skirts slightly as she entered.

The smoky haze was enough to choke her, and she rather wished the men inside would stop staring at her like she were a piece of meat. She'd tried to dress modestly, with longer sleeves and a higher collar in spite of the heat, but evidently it wasn't working. Even still, she looked around for any sign of Jack Sparrow, Joshamee Gibbs, or any one that she'd come to know on the Black Pearl. Her heart began to sink as she could find none.

"Anna," a voice issued behind her to her left.

She turned to see Jack sitting in a booth, seemingly alone, his tricorn hat tipped back over his red bandanna, his face shadowed by the dim lighting of the inn. He grinned at her, a flash of gold hitting her eyes for a moment. Her heart began to pound wildly in her chest. The familiar flutter of butterfly wings began to churn in her stomach. All she could do was smile shyly back at the man who had left her in Port Royal four and a half years before.  
He rose from his seat, walking to where she stood, frozen. He embraced her tightly, a gentle smile on his face.

"It's good to see yeh, luv," he said quietly, looking her up and down. "How long's it been? Three years?"

"Four," Annabelle corrected. "Nearly five."

Jack laughed. "Either way, it's been too long. Come sit with me?" he gestured to the booth he'd just risen from.

Annabelle nodded and graciously sat, adjusting her skirts about her lap. Jack looked at her intently before speaking. His intense gaze made her blush slightly, and she tucked a loose curl behind her ear.

"What's his name?" he asked, and Annabelle knew immediately of whom he was speaking.

"Joseph," she said quietly. "He's nearly four now. He's beautiful."

"What does he look like?" Jack rested his hand on his cheek, staring at Annabelle.

"He's got your eyes," she replied immediately, looking down at the grimy table top. "and he's got my hair. I guess that's where he gets his sense of propriety from too. He's been playing pirates lately."

Jack laughed, and the sound filled Annabelle with the strongest feeling of happiness that she'd felt in a long while.

"Has he now? Interesting.." he stroked his beaded and braided goatee with a ringed hand.

Annabelle took a moment to take the pirate in. He looked nearly the same as when they last saw each other, with the exception of a few wrinkles and new additions to the various trinkets within his raven colored dreads. Annabelle could still scarcely believe that she was talking to the man again. She could believe it even less when he took her hand in his, looking seriously at her.

"Does the Commodore know?" he asked, and she knew why he asked. He could be hanged if word got out that he had actually fathered Jacob's only child.

Annabelle shook her head. "If he does, he's never shown it. Jacob loves Joseph very much, Jack."

"Aye, I bet he does. I commend the man, I don' know wha' I'd do in his place."

Annabelle simply nodded, her eyes cast downward. She felt suddenly as if this were a bad idea. Feelings and unbidden emotions were rising up inside of her, feelings that she didn't want to express to the man in front of her. She rose from the booth, moving toward the doors.

"It-it was nice to see you again, Jack," she said quickly, her back turned to him.

"Wait a minute," he said, rising and catching her by the hand, pulling her close to him, so they were only inches apart.

"Yeh wouldn't believe how much I've missed yeh," he whispered, cupping her neck with a beringed hand.

Annabelle leaned into his hand, wishing with all her might that she could fully believe his words. "And I you, but I'm married to Jacob now, and-"

"Do yeh love him?" Jack cut her off, gazing into her blue eyes with his chocolate colored ones.

"Yes," Annabelle replied with no hesitation. "I do, Jack."

Jack cupped her face with both his hands, gazing intently. "The last time we spoke, I distinctly remember yeh saying tha' you'd always love _me_. I believe I got a fairly good idea of what that means. Yeh can't honestly tell me that's changed, has it?"

Annabelle shook her head, avoiding Jack's gaze. "No, it hasn't. I meant it, Jack. I still do. But I love Jacob too, he's been a good man, and I should stay faithful to him."

Jack nodded, contemplating her answer. "Yeh're a good woman, Anna. I respect tha'. But you've waited a long time for this piece of dirt here, though I don' think I deserve it. I just want to make yeh happy, luv. Please let me do that."

Annabelle nodded simply, allowing Jack to take her upstairs to his room at the inn. And as he kissed her, closing the door behind them, all thoughts of apprehension, fear, and guilt disappeared.


	6. Shame

As Annabelle dressed hurriedly the next morning, shame flooded her. This night was a mistake. A wonderful mistake while it was happening, but a mistake all the same. How could she have done this? Her husband had just left for a land that possibly held his death, and here she was, dressing herself after lying with another man. She was disgraceful.

Jack approached her from behind, in nothing but trousers and boots, and took the strings of her corset gently from her. He tied them together easily, and handed her the purple gown that lay on the floor of the room. She hastily threw it on and grabbed her boots, eager to leave.

"Hey now," Jack turned her around, taking her shaking pale hands in his. "What's the hurry, Anna?"

"This was wrong Jack," Annabelle avoided his eyes. "Jacob just went off to war, and the first thing I do is go to bed with another man. A _pirate_ no less." she could feel her cheeks growing red at the thought.

Jack responded by kissing her lightly, causing her heart to jump.

"I care about yeh very much, Annabelle Crowe," he whispered, cupping her face in his calloused hands.

That cemented the shame inside her chest. _I care about you_. Not, _I love you_. She had thought that he truly meant what he'd said, but now she thought otherwise. He couldn't say those three words to her, three simple words. Three words that would've meant so much coming from him. She'd slept with a man in hopes that he'd love her back, but instead got a stomach full of bubbling guilt and confusion in the morning.

She quickly bid the pirate goodbye, and sped down the stairs of the inn, which was fairly empty this early in the morning. As she stepped outside, she could just make out the sun gently rising over the hills to the east. She turned her back to it and went to look for her carriage. She found it tied up, the driver nowhere in sight. She stood next to the horses, waiting impatiently for him to arrive. He soon did, tucking his shirt into his trousers as he went. It seemed that she was not the only one who had an eventful night last night. He looked up and saw her, his face turning red under his graying moustache.

"G'mornin' ma'am," he mumbled, helping her into the carriage and then settling himself on the driver's bench in front. He cracked his whip quickly and the horses set off at a fast trot toward home.

The next few weeks were difficult, and Annabelle found herself distracted most days with thoughts of Jack. She longed for his touch again, as disgraceful and shameful as it was to think that way. She often dreamed of him as well. In every dream they were in the Mediterranean sea cove that had led to the night of her defloration. And each dream ended the same way, with heartbreaking disappointment.

Another disconcerting issue was her physical state. She found herself nauseous and faint more and more often, and was beginning to find herself craving strange foods, especially taramosalata, a spread which she had tasted within the home of Stefanos, the Greek man who'd betrayed Jack to the Royal Navy. Even still, she refused to address the possible reason for it.

One early morning, after having vomited into her chamber pot multiple times, Mary came rushing through the door.

"Mary? What are you doing here?" Annabelle asked, panting in exhaustion.

"Michael McCaphrey's eatin' mushy foods now, my services aren't needed there. And your boy told me you've been feelin' sick. Let me look at you."

She lifted Annabelle's face in her hand, examining her closely. She felt her forehead, and felt her neck just under her jaw line.

"You don't have a fever, ma'am," she muttered, pulling the woman up from her knees to sit on the bed. "I think you should go see Doctor Mclaughlan."

Annabelle shook her head vehemently. "No, honestly I'm fine it's probably just a little-oh God!"

Another spasm overtook her and and she dropped to her knees again, dry heaving into the chamber pot. Mary looked at her with sympathetic green eyes as she helped Annabelle into her bed again.

"I'll go empty this, and then we're goin' straight to Mclaughlan's." her voice held a stern finality, and Annabelle in her weakened state could hardly argue.

Mary held Annabelle in her arms, easing her through the carriage ride. The nausea was terrible, and she barely made it without getting sick. They rushed into the doctor's office, eager to get the examination over with.

Doctor Mclaughlan strode out, his graying copper hair combed back from his face. His wrinkled face was benevolent and curious.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Lady Montel?" he asked graciously, taking her clammy pale hands into his own large ones.

"She's not been feelin' well, Doctor," Mary said quickly. "I suggested she come here."

Mclaughlan nodded seriously, leading Annabelle to his examination room, and had her lay on his medical table. At request, Mary was bidden to sit with the sick woman, holding her hand for comfort.

When the examination was over, Doctor Mclaughlan looked grim. He wiped his hands off and looked at Annabelle with what she thought was disdain.  
"As I understand it, your husband's gone off to war?" he asked, his hands clasped together in front of him.

Annabelle nodded, unable to speak without feeling as though she'd be sick.

"I know this is quite a personal question, forgive me, but…when did you and he last lay together?"

"The-the night before he left," Annabelle choked out, slightly confused at the question.

The doctor's face relaxed immensely, and he patted one of her left hand, which held the golden ring she'd received on her wedding day.

"Well, I should congratulate you, ma'am. You're pregnant!" a smile stretched across his aging Irish face.

Annabelle was shocked. Pregnant? Again? She was saved from any response, for having seen her face, Mary had rised to grab a pot from a counter, into which Annabelle vomited furiously.


	7. Good News

_Eight Years Later_

Eight year old Lily Rose Montel came running through the doors of the Montel manor, her blue eyes glistening with tears. She rushed past her mother in the sitting room, her dark brown hair flying behind her. Annabelle rose from her seat, setting down her tea, and followed the young girl to her room, whose door had been tightly shut. It seemed that she was crying more often than not these days. Despite her mother and mother in law's protests, Annabelle had enrolled both her children into public school, to be with children their own age. There had been many times in which both Lily and Joseph had become the targets of ridicule, the other children relaying rumours they'd heard their parents spouting.

The rumours were not totally without cause. The two children had grown up to posess an aquiline beauty, with high cheekbones and straight sloping noses. Though Joseph did get teased sometimes, he got a lot of attention from the young girls his age. Lily got the brunt of the taunting, because her skin had grown darker as she aged. At first it got no attention, because there were many Black Irish families around where they lived. But it began to look more Spanish with time, causing many people (mainly women), to comment and give the family scandalous looks whenever the Montels traveled to town.

Annabelle gently opened the door to Lily's bedroom, finding the girl face down on her bed, sobbing. She sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing Lily's back softly.

"What's the matter, dear?" she asked, feeling anger bubbling inside of her. Say what they like about her, but to attack her children was crossing the line.

"I hate school!" Lily cried into her pillow, sobs racking her body. "They're all so mean!"

"What did they do?" Annabelle pressed, gently lifting the girl and cradling her in her arms.

"M-Michael said t-that m-my Papa w-was a-a pirate!" Lily wailed, burying her face in her mother's chest. "He said I w-was dirty!"

"Michael McCaphrey, from up the hill?" Annabelle asked. "What would he know? Was he there when you were created?" It seemed that like his nosy mother, the young McCaphrey had a hard time knowing when to shut his mouth. Though the story of her birth father was true, there was no way in all of hell that she would let them know it. It was only a rumour to them anyway, who were they to perpetrate it further?

She brushed Lily's hair back from her face, looking into her blue eyes, much like her own.

"Don't listen to such stories, Lily. They're neither true nor kind. Keep your chin up, and ignore such idle lies. They'll do you no good."

"B-but-" Lily protested.

"I know they hurt, but they're only words. In the end, they only mean what you make them mean." Annabelle kissed her daughter's forehead, holding her tightly.

"And besides," Annabelle continued, smiling down at the girl. "You can prove that your Papa's not a pirate. He'll be coming home tomorrow."

"Really? I'll get to meet him?" Lily said excitedly, a smile lighting her face.

Annabelle nodded, hugging the girl. Though in all her life she'd never seen the man Annabelle had told her was her father, she had an idea of what he looked like based on her mother's stories, and a single portait done shortly after Joseph had been born. Jacob had been sent a letter as soon as Annabelle's second pregnancy had been confirmed. They'd been corresponding for months at a time, with long pauses in between. He'd been ecstatic, imploring Annabelle for details about the girl every day since her birth. He asked how Joseph had been growing, promising to begin teaching him how to fight when he returned. He'd even replied to a few short notes the children had written to him.

His last letter had been quite a surprise; it'd been a month since he'd given any word to his family. Annabelle had received it just a week before the expected arrival date, but wanted to keep it a secret. A pleasant surprise for the children.

"Come now," she said, taking Lily's hand and pulling her up. "it's nearly dinner time, let's go."

Lily rose from the bed, holding her mother's hand tightly, walking down stairs to the dining room. She sat down on the right of her mother, fidgetting restlessly with her napkin, causing a bit of chastising from Annabelle. Mary entered soon after, taking her seat on Annabelle's left. She'd been hired full time as a sort of nanny, and in truth, Annabelle cared too much to see her go. She smiled kindly at Lily, adjusting her napkin as well.

"Roisin should be along shortly," she said casually, going into a conversation with Lily about her day at school.

Roisin had come to the Montel manor to stay with her mother. She was a wonderful older role model for Lily, and until recently, a wonderful friend to Joseph. They'd become rather distant lately, spending more time apart. She followed her mother in arriving. Now sixteen, she was quite a beauty. Her long brown hair came down to the small of her back in light waves, and her green-brown eyes shone with intelligence and kindness. Her skin was soft and a dark peaches and cream complexion. She'd grown up to have an enviable figure as well. It was a wonder she wasn't married yet, though her mother was keen on finding her a husband as soon as she could.

She smiled at Annabelle and set herself down next to Lily. Both Mary and Annabelle noticed that her face was rather flushed.

"Where've you been, Missy?" Mary asked, a small smirk at the corner of her mouth.

"Nowhere," Roisin replied quickly, adjusting her napkin. "Just with friends."

"Would "friends" include Allan McColough?" her mother asked, the smirk becoming more pronounced as she looked at her daughter.

"No!" Roisin exclaimed, a bit too quickly.

"You might want to work on your lying skills, Roisin," Mary said calmly, winking at her very red faced daughter. Lily giggled softly, which prompted a withering look from the sixteen year old.

"Do you know where Joseph is?" Annabelle asked. Roisin shook her head.

"He'd better arrive soon. I told him to be home right after school." Annabelle muttered, her hands clasped together.

Just then, she heard the door open, and she sighed with relief. In came Charlie, Roisin's older brother and Mary's second oldest son, dragging Joseph by the elbow to the table. Her eldest, Logan, had been called to war, much like Jacob. Unfortunately, he was lost only a few months after he'd been shipped off.

"Gerroff me!" Joseph cried, pulling from the dark Irishman's grip. Charlie kindly let go, forcing the twelve year old into a seat next to Mary, across from Roisin. He refused to look at her.

"Found this young fella here tryin' to start a fight with Allan McColough down by the docks. Stupid boy, don't ya know to pick someone smaller than you if you're goin' to start a quarrel?" he ruffled the angry boy's hair before turning to leave. "G'night, all. Hannah and Bonnie send their love." he was referring to his wife, whom he'd married just a year before. They'd just recently had a daughter.

Annabelle nodded, and then turned to glare at Joseph.

"Young man, what have I told you about fighting?" she demanded, staring at the tousel haired boy, whom she could see now had a bruise forming on one of his high cheekbones.

"He's a git…" Joseph muttered, roughly adjusting his napkin as the cooks and maids came with the platters and began to fill goblets.

"No he's not," Roisin interjected, taking a sip from her goblet of water. "What do you know about him anyway?" she asked, looking at Joseph curiously. Annabelle could've sworn she saw some fear in her eyes as well.

"I know he's a stupid, thieving, _ugly_-"

"What's he stolen from you?" Roisin snapped, cutting him off.  
Joseph said nothing, merely began cutting some meat for himself, his brown eyes steely. Lily giggled again, tickled pink as she began to put two and two together. Annabelle took the rather awkward silence to speak.

"Joseph," she said gently, keeping her tone careful so as to not have the wrong effect with the news. "your father's coming home tomorrow."

The boy looked up in surprise, the steely look having disappeared from his face. "Really? Mum, don't lie about this. For sure?"

"Yes," Annabelle nodded, smiling. "For sure."

The mood within the meal changed drastically, with happy talk of a coming home celebration. Annabelle fell asleep that night with nothing but happy and expectant thoughts for Jacob rushing through her mind.


	8. Mistakes

Annabelle stared out of the window, waiting anxiously for Jacob. She couldn't wait for the man to come striding through the gate and back to his family. Lily was just as anxious. She kept walking from one room to the other, biting her lip and playing with the ends of her hair, a habit it seemed, that she'd inherited from her mother. Joseph, on the other hand was no where to be found. He'd disappeared that morning after breakfast, mumbling something about going with Danny O'Brien down to the stream at the back of the Montel property.

"Boy's up to some kinda trouble, mark my words," Mary said jokingly while clearing the dishes from the table.

Annabelle's heart was pounding with anticipation. Despite what'd happened with Jack, she still missed her husband. Her strong, dependable husband, who'd loved a child that wasn't his. Jack had loved and left, Jacob loved and stood there for her like a rock in the waves. She prayed he could love Lily as well as he had Joseph. Lily entered the room for the fifth time, accompanied by her brother, who'd become quite dirty in his adventure with the O'Brien boy.

"Ugh, Joseph! Go clean up before your father comes home!" Annabelle cried, shooing him to his room.

"Too late," he replied, a little smugly, looking out of the window.

Annabelle whipped around, looking in the same direction as her son. Sure enough, Jacob Montel, rifle in hand, pack on his back, was trekking slowly through the front gate. He looked quite weary, but inexplicably happy as he looked upon his home.  
Joseph sprinted to the door, wrenching it open and running to his father. He wrapped his arms around the man's neck, holding tightly. Jacob dropped his gun, falling to his knees as he embraced his son.

Annabelle took Lily's hand, leading her to the front door to meet the man that was, to everyone's knowledge, her father. She heard Roisin and Mary walking to meet them from the kitchen. They stood in the doorway together. Lily stood shyly behind Annabelle's skirts, staring at the man hugging her brother. Annabelle nudged her forward, but she shook her head, unwilling to meet Jacob.

Jacob looked up, laying his green eyes on his wife for the first time in eight years. He looked to Roisin, and his eyes widened.

"I don't remember you being that big…" he said softly.

Roisin giggled. "Yes, it has been a while, hasn't it?"

He looked to Mary next, smiling widely. Mary's light green eyes filled with tears as she looked upon the man who she'd considered to be an older son since she'd worked for him. She walked out and quickly embraced him.

"Welcome home," she whispered, walking back to her daughter.

Jacob's eyes strayed to the small figure standing just behind Annabelle. His daughter. As Joseph released him, he reached his arms out to the girl, beckoning to her.

"Come, little one," he called softly, looking lovingly at Lily. "I've waited a long time to meet you."

Lily grudgingly walked out from behind her mother, approaching the man carefully. She looked at him appraisingly, taking him in. He'd grown a stubble along his jaw, and he looked a little thinner than he'd left. Lily slowly reached out a small hand, placing it in Jacob's large one.

"Papa," she said softly.

Jacob nodded, his eyes filling with tears. In an attempt to hide them, he pulled the girl into a tight embrace, holding on for dear life. He stroked the girl's dark brown hair, kissing her cheek. When he released Lily, it was clear that now he only had eyes for his wife. He walked toward Annabelle at a fast pace, and Annabelle went to meet him. He swept her up into his arms, twirling her around. He kissed her passionately, putting all of his love into it. Lily giggled at her parents' affection. They all walked into their home together, a family for the first time.

That night, as they undressed for bed, Jacob seemed restless. He kept looking at Annabelle, and she could not put a name down on his expression. Finally, she knew what he was feeling when he spoke. Betrayal.

"She looks just like him. When did he come?" he asked simply, sitting on the edge of the bed in only his trousers.  
Annabelle sighed, ashamed and sorry. "A week after you left. Jacob, I'm so sorry. I just…I.." she faltered as Jacob held his head in his hands, a defeated man.

"Do you love him?" he asked, not bothering to look at her.

Annabelle didn't answer, only turned away, tears filling her eyes.

"Answer me," his voice was angry, hurt.

"Yes," she whispered, unable to look at him.

"Why? How could you love a man like him? What about me? Do you love me?"

"Yes! I do! I love you!" Annabelle said pleadingly. "But Jack will always hold a part of me with him. Do you understand?"

Jacob nodded, his eyes resting on her. "I should've known the rumours were true," his voice was bitter now. "But I wanted to think otherwise…"

"Jacob, look at me," Annabelle dropped to her knees in front of her husband, begging. "I love you. Know this. _I love you_. And your children love you. Make no mistake-they are _your_ children, Jacob. You're raising them. _You_ love them. Don't let my mistakes punish them. They love you. You're the only father they've known. The only father they will ever know. Please."

She reached out her hands, gripping his tightly. He tensed for a moment, but did not pull away. They locked eyes, and Annabelle could see all the pain he held inside of him. She felt the utmost guilt for her actions. She embraced her husband tightly. He gripped her just as tightly against his bare chest.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"Shhh," Jacob quieted her gently.

He pulled away from her, taking in every inch of her face. He kissed her gently. Annabelle responded strongly, feeling for the first time almost the same kind of passion she felt for Jack. They laid down on the bed together, and Annabelle felt for a moment that somehow she could make up for her infidelity, though in her subconscious she knew there was no way.

They lay in each other's arms afterwards, unknowing of the surprise that was coming ever steadily their way.


	9. Volunteers and Propositions

The first thing she was aware of was the screams.

Her eyes fluttered open groggily, and she sat up. She listened in the still darkness of the bedroom. The screams were distant. They sounded as if they were coming from over the hill, in the direction of the McCaphrey's. They were distinctly higher pitched._ Mairead._ _Michael_. Her heart began to speed up furiously. She nudged Jacob beside her, and he sat up heavily, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Is it?" he slurred, still emerging from the vestiges of sleep.

"Don't you hear them?" Annabelle asked urgently, slipping out from under the sheets and slipping a nightgown over her still naked body.

Jacob's eyes widened as he registered the sound.

"Get the children," he said solemnly, rising to dress. "And Mary." he added quickly, throwing on his breeches and a nightshirt.

Annabelle ran hastily to obey. She ran down the hall to Lily's room, which was the newly transformed nursery and closest to the Master chambers. She wrenched the door open, rushing to her daughter's side and shaking her awake.

"Lily, get up! Come on, get up! We have to go!" Annabelle dragged the girl from her bed, pulling her limp feet down to Joseph's room.

She did the same with the boy, shaking him frantically awake.

"Wha'?" he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes confusedly.

"You need to get up, Joe! Hurry, we need to get out of here!" Annabelle pulled the twelve year old from his bed and pulled he and his sister farther yet down the hall.

When they reached Mary and Roisin's quarters, Annabelle found they had already woken. Mary looked to her seriously, her light green eyes filled with concern. Roisin was sitting quietly on the bed, toying with the frayed ends of her nightgown.

"What do you think's happenin'?" Mary asked, pulling the two Montel children close to her.

Annabelle shook her head. "I don't know."

A crash emanated from the front room. Loud, raucous voices could be heard from down stairs. Annabelle rushed everyone into the small closet on the eastern wall of the room, holding the door tightly shut. She prayed Jacob was safe.

"Mumma, I'm scared," Lily whispered, her blue eyes filling with tears.

"Shhh," Annabelle quieted the child, stroking her tangled dark brown hair. She looked to her son, who was standing at attention, silent and steely eyed. She praised him for his fearlessness in such a situation. Though, honestly, the boy scarcely knew what true fear was.

She heard steps coming ever steadily closer down the hall. She closed her eyes and prayed fervently for her family's safety. She could just make out the voices from outside the room.

"Tha' was a bloody fuckin' waste a time, tha' was," a loud, drunken tenor voice shouted, his voice echoing slightly along the walls. He had a very distinct English accent, as did his accompanying partners. "Didn' own a bloody thing tha' was worth anythin'! It was fun to watch it burn, though!" he laughed loudly, Annabelle could hear his stumbling steps come closer to the room they were hiding in.

She quickly covered her mouth, stifling a cry. Burned? They'd burned the house down? Were Mairead and Michael and Gregory inside? Tears stung her eyes at the thought of that little boy, clinging to his mother as their home was engulfed in flames.

"Yeah, an' tha' woman was a fighter! I love the Irish! Always great fun!" another voice, distinctly higher in pitch, as though he had just entered the throes of puberty. Annabelle shuddered at his words.

"Let's go in 'ere, mates," the first man slurred. "There's gotta be somefin' in 'ere…"

She heard the men stumble in and begin ripping through the room. They turned over the beds and ripped through the small amoire that Roisin and Mary kept their belongings in. They whooped and yelled as they discovered the women's underwear.

"If this is 'ere…then the bodies they belong to can't be far behind…" the teenage sounding man said, and he swaggered closer to the closet in which Annabelle and her family were stowed away. She pulled her children closer to her, willing them not to make a sound.

"Here, lil ladies," the man purred, sending chills up Annabelle's spine. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he and his friends laughed, as if they were playing a casual game of hide-and-seek.

He threw open the closet door.

The light of the moon glowed on the figures of the women and children crouched within. The man that stood before them was tall and lanky, a rather weak look to his lean body. His greasy blonde hair was rattailed, and his skin dirty. He wore a dingy white shirt with a tattered brown vest and torn breeches. He smelled awful, but Annabelle's nose hinted traces of something familiar. Seawater. They were pirates. She immediately began to panic. She knew what pirates were about, and with three women in their grasp, the outcome could not be good.

The blonde man's eyes found Roisin, and his face filled with greed and lust. Mary stepped in front of her, holding her arms in front of her daughter.

"You'll not touch any one of them," she said coolly, her eyes filled with flaming anger and fear.

"Oh, really? I suppose you'll be volunteerin' for 'er then?" he grabbed the dark woman's wrist and dragged her out into the room, throwing her onto one of the flipped mattresses.

"_Mum_!" Roisin cried, running to assist her mother.

"Gotcha!" a rather fat, dirty man caught her by the waist and pulled her backward. His scraggly brown hair hung lankly under a black tricorn hat, and he had suspenders that strained to hold his trousers up. He stroked a strand of the girl's light brown hair. "Ello, duckie. Here to give us a good time? Once we're done with your mum, o' course." he laughed, exposing a mouth full of browning teeth.

Roisin fought against the man, tears filling her eyes. Annabelle recognized his voice as the same one who'd laughed about the McCaphrey's burning to death. Her stomach clenched with disgust.

"No!' Roisin screamed, kicking and wrestling with her captor. "_Mum_!"

Lily began to cry softly into Annabelle's nightgown. Joseph looked as though he might burst at any moment. Annabelle pulled him close to her.

"Don't do anything, Joe," she whispered quickly. "Do you understand me? Don't move a muscle."

Joseph did not respond, merely glared at the group of men in front of them.

The blonde man had already begun undoing his trousers when a large crash emanated from the doorway. A rather large black man had slammed through, dragging Jacob with him.

"Annabelle!" he cried, fighting against the man, who shoved him hard into the wall, causing him to shout in pain.

"Look wha' I found, Tommy," he addressed the blonde man posed on top of Mary. "Tried ta fight, 'e did. But, I broke 'is gun 'fore 'e could."

'Tommy' gave a rather nasty grin, and turned back to Mary, feverishly sliding his pants down. Suddenly, Mary kicked up a foot, catching the greasy man in the groin. He screamed and rolled over on the mattress, holding himself. Mary scrambled away, panting and adjusting her skirts. Roisin struggled futily against the man holding her, tears falling down her cheeks.

"Mum! _Please_! _Help me_!" she shrieked.

Mary ran forward, face steely with anger. She was almost close enough to touch her daughter when she was knocked over from the side. Tommy stood wobbling over her, positively fuming.

"You little_ bitch_!" he punctuated the last word with a blow to her stomach. He pinned her down, straddling her waist and straightening her legs. He struck her over and over, oblivious to the screams of Roisin, Annabelle, Lily, and surprisingly, Joseph. Soon Mary was bleeding profusely, barely able to breathe.

"No!" Joseph screamed, jumping out from behind his mother and running right to Tommy. "Don't touch her you bastard!" he began mercilessly pounding on the man who'd hurt his Mary. The blows did little, and the man simply laughed, back handing the boy and sending him to the floor.

"It seems the young fella wants a fight," he addressed his friends, who began to laugh. "So I say, let's give 'im a fight!" he pulled the boy up by his auburn hair, leering drunkenly.

"No!" Annabelle screamed, rising and reaching for her son. "Take me! Take me instead!"

The men looked confused for a moment, but a menacing smile came over Tommy's face, and he dropped the boy, who fell to his knees. He strode forward, grabbing Annabelle's wrist and pulling her forward, shoving her to the turned mattress he'd just assaulted Mary on.

"_Yeh'll not be touching 'er_." a voice came from the doorway.

All the men turned, staring at attention. The fat man holding Roisin dropped her hastily, and she ran, sobbing, to her mother who lay on the floor. Tommy rolled over away from Annabelle, buckling up his trousers.

"Aw, come on, Cap'n," the man whined, looking longingly at Annabelle. "You said we was allowed to have a lil fun wif the-"

"I am your captain, and yeh bide by my orders," the man's gravelly voice was little more than a growl. "_And yeh're not to touch tha' woman_."

Tommy rose, sulkily moving toward his fat friend, who was also pouting in lieu of the new orders. Annabelle looked closely at the newcomer. He had a large gray mane of grizzled hair hidden under a black tricorn hat. His broad face was scarred and wrinkled, and his shoulders slightly hunched with age. His eyes were of the palest blue she'd ever seen. If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought he was blind. But as he strode towards her, pulling her up from the mattress, it became clear that that was not at all the case. He gave a rather polite smile and led her away from Tommy and the gang of pirates in the room.

"Now, Lady Montel," he said softly, his gruff voice like a purr in her ear. "I've got a proposition for yeh."


	10. Going Home

**Note: **_Hey! Hope you're enjoying all of this so far! It'd be nice if I could get a few more reviews and favorites and follows though. Just a suggestion. ;) _

"I'll take no proposition from _you_," Annabelle hissed, jerking away from him.

The grizzled old man held her elbow steady, pulling her close to him. He smelled of tobacco, sweat, salt water, and she could just detect traces of rum.

"Tha's not a wise choice, m'dear," he said, raising his eyebrows in warning. "If yeh don' comply with me, I'll simply let m'boys 'ere go to town on your husband and kiddies. They're collateral. I don' need 'em."

She sucked in a sharp breath, and allowed the man to lead her out of the room and into Jacob's office, which had also been stripped of anything of material value. She could not put her family in jeopardy. She would not do anything that would cause them harm, she would die before even thinking of it.

The pirate sat behind Jacob's large desk, resting his elbows on it and leaning forward towards Annabelle, who stood stiffly, a hard glare in her blue eyes.

"Sit, darlin'," he gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk with a battle scarred hand.

Annabelle reluctantly obeyed, still looking coolly at the captain.

"Allow me to introduce meself," he leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. "My name is Captain Henry Teach."

Annabelle's eyes widened. _Teach_? As in the most infamous pirate of the time? As in _Blackbeard_? Annabelle opened her mouth to reply, but Teach cut her off before she could speak. It seemed he already knew what she was going to say.

"'Ol' Edward, or Blackbeard as yeh probably know 'im, was my little brother. Mangy lil bastard, 'e was. But it don' matter now, e's dead. Matter of fact, the man who killed 'im is somebody I believe yeh're familiar with." he said it business like, no personal feelings attached to the lost of his brother.

Annabelle was confused. Who did she know who was powerful or smart enough to kill Blackbeard? She thought hard for a moment. Then it came to her. _Jack_.

"What does he have to do with this?" Annabelle asked, her nervous heart hammering against her breast.

"Well, as I've 'eard-and believe me, I'm not the only one-he's fathered not one, but _two_ of your children. The wife of the Commodore of Port Royal, involved with a pirate. Makes a mighty good bit o' gossip. And judging on the lil girl in tha' bedroom, I'd dare say they were true."

Annabelle looked down, ashamed. "I still don't understand what-"

Teach held up a hand, cutting her off again. "It's not him I'm interested in, dear Lady. It's his father. Captain Joseph Teague, pirate Lord of Madagascar."

Annabelle looked a little indifferently. "Forgive me, Captain, but I've not heard of this particular pirate. Not by name, anyway."

"Ah," Henry Teach chuckled, rubbing his silvery stubbled chin. "Lil Jackie an' 'is Dad never got along very well, no pirates really do, blood bound or not. Anyway, tha's not the point. Apparently, Teague's been keeping a bloody close eye on 'is boy, following' 'im, so to speak. He's not been up to much since tha' Turner woman was voted Pirate King-or Queen, whatever. But either way, I plan to use it to me advantage. I'm gonna use yeh as bait for the dear Captain Jack. When yeh get to Jack, I'll get to Teague. It's simple, really."

"That's all you want? Just this…Teague?" she asked apprehensively.

Teach nodded curtly, and held out his arms to her, as literally weighing the two options in front of her. Either accept the Captain's offer, and lead him to his desired goal, or watch her family die. It did seem rather simple, as he had said. She nodded quickly, and shook the man's wide calloused hand.

"Now, let's go see how your family's faring," he said, rising from Jacob's chair.

Annabelle rushed back to the bedroom where her family lay captive. Roisin was sitting on her knees, holding her mother's head in her lap. Mary was barely stirring, her face covered with blood, though it looked as though someone had attempted to clean her. Lily sat in the corner of the room closest to the closet, head in her lap. Joseph stood stiffly, very ready to fight. Jacob lay limply in the hands of the black man who held his arms in a very awkward and rather painful looking position. Annabelle approached her daughter, picking her up and cradling her. She then kneeled down next to Roisin, while Teach gathered his men outside the room. Jacob was dropped to the floor, and he lay coughing and gasping.

Mary lay very still, her chest moving lightly, as if it were painful to even breathe. Annabelle reached out and grasped the Irish woman's hand, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

Mary turned her head very slowly, her light green eyes looking at her lovingly.

"Now," she choked out, and Annabelle could see a light stream of blood fall from the corner of her mouth. Roisin gently wiped it away. "Don't you cry now, Anna. There's nothin' to cry about. You too, Roisin. I'm just goin' home. Goin' home is all. It rather hurts, but it won't for long. I can hear Logan and Robert callin' my name. Do you hear it, Rosie? Do you hear your daddy?"

Roisin nodded slowly, tears water falling down her face. She looked at Annabelle pleadingly. Annabelle shook her head, tears streaming down her own face as well. There was nothing to be done. The one woman in her life that had really been a mother to her was dying, here on the floor, blood seeping from her body. She couldn't even imagine what Roisin was feeling. She could feel Lily crying against her as well. She held the dark girl tightly, hoping she could absorb the pain. Mary squeezed her hand with all the strength she could manage.

"You take care o' my girl now, you hear?" she said, her chest tightening with the effort of speaking. "Both my girls need to be safe." she reached up and cupped Annabelle's face softly before dropping her hand limply to the floor. Her eyes closed, fluttering softly, and her breathing slowed to a stop.

"No," Roisin whispered, her voice cracking. "No, Mumma, stop it. Mumma, come on, wake up. Please, _please_!" her voice was rising to a shout. "_Mumma_!"

Annabelle pulled the girl into her, holding her head to her chest.

"Shhh," she quieted. "Shhh, Roisin. It's alright." tears were falling steadily down her face as well, though her voice did not waver.  
She looked up to see her son and husband crying as well. She felt as if her heart had split in two. It felt almost as it had when she stood watching Jack at the gallows. As it would have if he had died there. Henry Teach entered the room.

"It's time to go," he said gruffly, and a few of his men entered the room lifted her up from Mary's body. She held her daughter against her, unwilling to let her go.

"Let me take them with me," she said, her voice now beginning to quiver. "Please."  
"Alrigh'" he said dismissively. A rusty haired man with a scar running down his cheek roughly grabbed Joseph and led him out of the room. Jacob lay where he was, his face contracted with pain.

"I want my husband," she said firmly.

Teach shook his head. "Yeh'll not be able to serve your purpose if he's with us."

"Please!" she pleaded. "I promise, he'll not affect my work."

Teach sighed exasperatedly. "Whatever."

And then they were led out of the room, away from their home, away from any love and safety they'd ever known.


	11. Collateral

Once aboard Teach's ship, the Beast's Heart, Annabelle and her children were led to quarters at the lowest level of ship. It was dark, damp, and smelled strongly of saltwater and body odor. Jacob was put in another cabin, as far as possible from his family. Annabelle suspected they'd broken a few of his ribs, based on the way he was holding himself when they were brought aboard. Lily lay in Annabelle's lap, trembling and sniffling. Joseph sat one of the small cots Teach had stuffed in the room, staring blankly at the wall, lost in thought. Roisin was lying on her side next to him, turned away from them all. Her long light brown hair was a tangled waterfall down her back.

"I'm sorry," Annabelle told them all. "I'm so sorry, this is all my fault."

Joseph opened his mouth to speak, but as he did, the door to the cabin opened. The same rusty haired, scarred man that had collected Joseph from Mary and Roisin's bedroom entered, holding small tin plates of food and three flagons of water. Dried meat and mashed potatoes, gone slightly ripe from the look of them. Joseph turned his nose up at the food, causing the man to laugh.

"Too good for it, yeh lil whelp?" he asked sarcastically, still chuckling as he exited the room.

Annabelle remembered a time years ago when she'd had this meal for days on end, and how accustomed she'd become to it. As she scooped a bite of the potatoes into her mouth, she could feel herself, her old self, the one who'd sailed the high seas with pirates, coming back. She gently coaxed some food into Lily, who soon fell asleep against Annabelle's skirt. Joseph reluctantly took a few bites before lying down himself. Roisin made no sign that she would eat, so no coaxing was attempted. Annabelle leaned up against the wall, cradling her daughter in her arms. Her eyes were beginning to weigh down, her mind beginning to become fuzzy and unfocused…

The door opened, and her eyes fluttered opened, surprised. It was Tommy, his greasy blonde rattail and all. He glared at her for a moment, and then, clearing his voice said, "The Cap'n requests your presence."

Annabelle rose groggily, careful not to wake her daughter in the process, and followed the man out of the room. She was led upstairs to the Captain's quarters which, as she expected, were much better kept than the rest of the vessel. The burgundy walls blocked the incoming light of the now rising sun, and sheer curtains of the same color draped the rather plush bed in the corner. Teach sat at a beautifully carved desk, boots rested on top of it, smoking a pipe. Annabelle stifled a cough as she breathed the rancid smoke.

Teach turned his head to face her, his pale blue eyes scrutinizing her appearance. He took another puff from him pipe before speaking.

"Yeh look a mess, m'lady," he said casually, his gruff voice scraping her ears.

"And this has to do with _what_?" she asked indignantly. "My family and I have been kidnapped by pirates! You can't really expect me to look very presentable under the present circumstances."

"I need yeh in the best condition possible for Captain Sparrow when we find 'im. I need to be sure he'll be seduced by yeh when the time is right."

"I assure you, he's seen me in much worse conditions than this, and it did not phase him in the slightest." Annabelle replied, annoyed.

"Ah, but I'll take no chances," Teach said, rising from his seat and walking towards a small dresser next to his bed. He pulled out a rather wrinkled pale blue gown. Its neckline was rather low, and it looked tight fitting. Annabelle cringed at the thought of wearing it.

"Yeh'll be wearin' this until we meet our dear Captain Sparrow," he said in a cheery tone, throwing the dress at Annabelle. She caught it, flustered.

"Yeh can leave now," Teach dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Tommy, who'd been standing quite patiently, reached for her, a greedy look on his long face.

Annabelle ripped arm away from the man-boy's grasp. "I can manage just fine!" she snapped, walking briskly from the room and back to her children and Roisin.

All of them were asleep. Lily must have woken and moved, because all three of the children lay huddled together in a group. Their faces were strained and white, even in sleep. Lily and Roisin's breaths were watery gasps, and Annabelle's heart ached for them. She threw Teach's gown into the corner of the small, damp cabin and laid down next to her children. She fell into an empty, dreamless sleep.

"Get up!" a voice snapped.

Annabelle started for a moment. She looked around, dazed and confused. Where was she? What had happened? She could feel the room rocking gently, and smell the tang of salt water. The previous night's events rushed back to her, and she curled up into a ball, absorbing the pain.

"I said, _get up yeh lousy wretch_!" the voice came again.

Annabelle looked up, and her eyes focused on the rusty haired man that had fed them earlier.

Annabelle groaned, forcing herself to waken. She squinted up at the man for a moment.

"What is it?" she asked sleepily, stretching her muscles and sitting up.

"We're making port, and the Cap'n wants yeh to come. 'E don't want yeh on the ship by yerself." the man grunted, turning away from her.

"Wait!' she called, and the man turned around, sighing and rolling his eyes.

"Wut is it?"

'Where are we making port?"

The man grinned, revealing rather clean teeth for a pirate.

"Tortuga, ma'am. I trust yeh know where tha' is."

The man turned lazily on his heel and left the room, leaving Annabelle's head spinning in fear. She looked toward the pastel blue gown in the corner, and knew what she was to do. She quietly slipped it on, and tiptoed upstairs. She politely knocked on Teach's cabin door before entering. It was best to stay on this man's good side; after all, he held her family's life in the balance. She found the Captain conversing in hushed tones with the same man who had wakened her. He nodded curtly, and casting her a rather sour look, was dismissed.

"I should probly have introduced yeh to the crew," Teach said gruffly, leaning against his dark wooden desk. "Tha' there was Rutherford Morrow-or Rusty, as we call 'im."

How fitting. Annabelle thought wryly. She pressed forward with her questioning.

"Excuse me, Captain Teach? I'd like to know why I'm to come with you when we port?" she tried to ask as timid as possible, so as to not agitate the man.

"I'll not take a chance that yeh'll try to make an escape, lass," Teach replied simply, a withered hand stroking his chin.

"I swear to you, on my family's lives, I will not attempt such a thing," Annabelle said, her voice taking a rather unwanted desperate note. "All I ask is that I may stay in a room with my husband until you are finished with your business. Please?"

Teach looked at her doubtfully for a moment, "I don't think-"

"Based on the condition he was in when we boarded this vessel, I doubt that we'll be able to attempt any sort of escape." Annabelle cut him off, and she found herself toying with a tangled auburn curl while she waited for a response.

Teach cast her a warning look. "I'll allow it, but I swear, if any funny business gets about around here-yeh'll be payin' dearly."

Annabelle nodded quickly and moved to the door, eager to move her children closer to their father.

"Oh, and Lady Montel?" Teach added, causing her to pause at the latch. "As an extra collateral, I think I'll be takin' your boy with me."


	12. Possibly Mistaken

**Note:** _Hi guys! How are you liking the story? This chapter is rather short-another short tale before we get things going again. Thanks to everyone who's been giving constant reviews. I appreciate it! :) Tell me, how do you think Jack will react to seeing his children? Remember to review, follow, and favorite!_

Standing in the small dingy cabin in which her husband was roomed, Annabelle clung tightly to her twelve year old son.

"Be careful, and by no means do anything that will put you in danger," she pulled the boy back to face her, smoothing his tangled auburn hair and looking into his dark brown eyes. "And _no rum_."

Jacob chuckled behind them. He winced promptly as the movement strained his chest; and his hastily wrapped broken ribs. Annabelle scowled at her husband before turning to Joseph again.

"We love you, remember that." she finished, kissing the boy on his forehead and allowing him to make a goodbye to his father.

After a few moments, Henry Teach entered the room. He gave the boy a smile that was neither sinister, nor truly kind as he wrapped an arm around Joseph's slight shoulders.

"Come m'boy," he said jovially. "I have much to show yeh in this wonderful land in which we've boarded."

Joseph hitched up the breeches he'd been given, along with a rather large shirt and a dark green vest, and walked out silently with the pirate captain. After the door was shut and the latch reset, Annabelle rushed to Jacob's bedside, hurriedly telling him what the captain had in mind. The first thing he commented on was her dress. Roisin and Lily were asleep on the other side of the room, so they had to hold the conversation in hushed tones.

"I hadn't expected you to be dressed so nicely." he commented, chuckling.

"Shhh, never you mind," Annabelle replied, though she could not help but smile a little at the comment. "I've something to tell you…"

"So, he wants you to-to sleep with Jack to get information on his father?" Jacob finally asked when she finished explaining what the captain wanted from her.

"Essentially…yes," Annabelle replied, feeling slightly ashamed for some reason.  
Jacob shook his head, his face contorted in anger. "After all we've been put through with that good for nothing son of a-"

"I think I can persuade him without putting my honor on the line again," Annabelle quickly cut him off. "He already trusts me; I just have to manipulate it."

Jacob looked at her curiously for a moment. "Are you sure you can do it? You've always been such an honest person; you're a very terrible liar, Anna."  
Annabelle nodded. "I have no other choice, Jacob."

"One last thing," Jacob said, adjusting himself carefully on his sham of a bed. "You say Teach said Jack's father was_ Joseph_ Teague? The only pirate of the name Teague holds the name Edward. I wonder if he might be mistaken."

Annabelle held her head in her hands before looking at her husband once again.

"Let us hope not."

It was rather late when Teach and his men returned to the Beast's Heart. They were all rather loud, though it shouldn't have mattered, everyone was awake by that point. The dawn of morning was just coming over the ocean horizon, leaving most of the sky a fading navy color.  
Henry Teach and Joseph stumbled through the door of Jacob's cabin, and Annabelle could tell immediately that her son was drunk.

"I explicitly told you _no rum!_" Annabelle snapped, rushing forward and grabbing her son by the arm, yanking him away from Teach's reach.

"Ah, don't m'lady…t'was my fault. Me men sort of forced it upon 'im," Teach slurred leaning against the doorframe in his intoxication. "But it wasn' all bad, was it son?"

Joseph shook his head limply 'no', a smirk on his flushed face. His chocolate eyes held a twinkle that'd never been there before.

"What does he mean, Joseph?" Annabelle asked, glaring down at the boy reprovingly.

Joseph's face turned an even darker red, and he avoided his mother's gaze. "Nothin', Mum…"

Annabelle grabbed his arm roughly, leaning down and pulling him to her. "I said,_ what does he mean_? You'd better expl-" her nose caught a whiff of something permeating on her son's skin. Perfume.

"You didn't," she stared between her son and Teach in horror. "You let him…"

"It wasn' all us, dear. 'E volunteered, to be honest with yeh."

"He was _drunk!_" Annabelle cried, her hands flying to her face in shame. She could feel the heat radiating from her cheeks.

Teach raised an eyebrow at her, straightening up. "Don' worry, Lady Montel, tha' family of yours won' be in the company o' pirates much longer. We've finally found a headin' to follow. It seems Jack Sparrow is headed toward Port Royal."

He began to make his way out of the room, but before he was completely out of earshot, he called back to them.

"I daresay we payed too much for 'er, don' yeh think, Joe?"


	13. It Fits

Sailing into the Caribbean air, feeling the hot sun on her back, Annabelle felt her heart skip a beat. This is what started it all. Sailing into the same air, years ago, had started this twisted and morphed journey. Nothing had been normal since she'd arrived on the island of Port Royal. She'd first met Jacob here, and Jack for that matter. She stepped from the helm of the ship to find Roisin, looking out wistfully to the open water.

"Are you all right?" Annabelle asked, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

She nodded wearily, her long brown hair shaking slightly. "I just miss her."

Annabelle looked sympathetically at the sixteen year old. She held the same pain in her heart as well. "As do I, Rosie. This is my fault."

Roisin whipped her head to look at Annabelle, her green-brown eyes surprisingly angry. "Don't say that. It's not true! Whatever you did, it did not give these men the permission to do that to Mum, or to Jacob. To any of us! Don't even think it!"

She turned away from Annabelle, walking to Jacob's cabin where Joseph and Lily were biding their time. They'd both become rather anxious, and tensions were high since the incident on Tortuga. Roisin barely talked to Joseph, rather content with playing with Lily until the next port had been found. Annabelle, as well as Jacob, could tell Joseph was rather upset with the turn of events in their friendship. She was sure that she knew why Roisin was so cold with the boy, and could not blame her. Both children had been known for wearing their hearts on their sleeves, so most of their exchanges were all but private.

"Land ahead!" she heard Tommy shout from the crow's nest. She strode up to the helm once more, and she could just make out the bland gray military fort that stood on a high cliff over looking the Caribbean Sea. Her heart made another jump as she remembered Jack's escape from his death at the gallows, remembered watching him jump from the wall landing just shy of the rocks.

She suddenly remembered something; _Aunt Loraine!_ She hadn't corresponded with the woman since Joseph was born, and even then it was only a short note filled with shallow small talk. She found herself yearning to see the woman again-she wondered if she'd changed at all since they'd last spoken twelve years before. Of course, it was not as if she could just waltz in and see her. She was a captive of pirates; bidden to do their every whim until they found Jack. She wondered what brought Jack here again in the first place. What could there possibly be for him here? Her thoughts were cut short by Teach, who'd stepped up beside her.

"We'll not be comin' ashore til nightfall, due to the present circumstances. This island does not take well to pirates."

"I'm quite aware," Annabelle replied drily. "Are you sure he'll be there?"

"Aye Miss, I'm quite sure. My sources are quite reliable. Don' worry yer pretty lil head about any of it. Just do as I say." Captain Teach sauntered away from the helm, leaving her alone.

Rather resenting being talked to as if she were a child, Annabelle followed him.

"What am I to do? I'd like to know beforehand, so I can practice."

"Ah, things of this nature are always better when they come from the heart, Lady Montel. And given yer…history…I don't think tha' should be a problem. But I would suggest bringin' tha' girl of yours along. Migh' be able to touch a soft spot in ol' Jackie's heart."

"Won't it look suspicious if she's dirty and still in her nightdress?" Annabelle asked, trying to keep up with the Captain as he walked away from her.

"I have tha' covered, m'lady. Now, if yeh'll leave me for the time bein', I've important business to attend to."

He strode into his cabin, closing the latch behind him. Annabelle returned to Jacob's cabin and reported what Teach had told her.

"No," Jacob said adamantly. "I will not let my daughter be a part of this. She will not be involved."

"It's not as if we have a choice!" Annabelle snapped. "We can either do what he says, or die."

Jacob looked toward Lily, who was in the midst of learning a new game from Roisin. Her blue eyes lit with excitement, she looked quite innocent.

Annabelle righted herself before striding over and kneeling next to her daughter.

"Lily, I need you to help Mumma with something," she began, and found in shock that her hands had begun to shake.

"What is it, Mumma?" Lily asked, her face alight with curiosity.

Night quickly descended over the sea, leaving the last tongues of orange sunlight trickling against the sky. Annabelle could just barely see the disappearing light as she sat in a small room with Lily, just off of her husband's cabin. She'd been given a basin in which to wash herself and her daughter before reaching the island to meet Jack. She'd also been given a comb and a small maroon gown to dress Lily in. She wondered where they'd aquired all of these items, but decided it was not in her best interest to ask.

"Sit still, Lily," she implored as she scrubbed behind the girl's ears. "I'm almost done, I promise."

"But it tickles!" the dark girl giggled as Annabelle moved a strand of dark brown hair to better reach the crevices behind her ears.

When she had finished, she quickly dressed her daughter and then hastily washed herself. When she'd redressed in the skin tight pastel blue gown she'd been given, she kneeled behind Lily and combed through her damp dark brown curls. She braided the thick hair as fast as possible and then pinned her own auburn curls in a rush. She wanted this night to be over as quickly as possible. She didn't know how Jack would react to seeing his daughter for the first time, but she did not want his reaction to give away the truth.

They exited the room together, Annabelle gripping her daughter's hand tightly.

"Ow! Mumma, you're hurting me," Lily whispered, causing Annabelle to relax her death-grip.

They were just approaching the docks when she spotted the Black Pearl , its sails hidden just behind the tall rocks that marked the dock's beginning. Her heart began to thunder against her breast. This was it. It was now or never.

Teach gracefully lent her a hand as the plank was lowered for their release. Rusty had been posted as their guard-he was to remain incognito, steadily watching for any attempt to escape-and to report any useful information back to Teach. He followed them from several feet behind, and when they reached the small tavern in which they were to wait, he waited several minutes before entering as well.

Annabelle pulled Lily along to a small table in the corner of the room. They sat quietly for a while, watching the men and women enter and leave like the steady flow of the tide. Lily began to become fidgety, and Annabelle had to constantly chide her to sit still.

"This dress is itchy," Lily complained, tugging her skirt restlessly.

Annabelle sighed, rubbing her face tiredly before glancing at the front door to the tavern once more.

Though his face was shadowed by his tricorn hat, there was no doubt in Annabelle's mind as to who it was. His dark dreadlocks swung carelessly as he swaggered up to the bar, ordering what she knew would be rum. Her heart made a fantastic leap as she saw the tattered navy blue ribbon she'd given to him when she was seventeen. Had he really kept it all these years? Something began to stir inside her; it made her both excited and uneasy.

As he strode past their table, she dropped her head to her daughter, pretending to straighten out her gown. She prayed he'd just walk past. This was wrong, she could not do this. She'd find another way to save her family. She couldn't. She couldn't. She couldn't.

"Annabelle?" she heard his voice ask out tentatively. She forced her head up to meet his face.

"Hello, Jack," she said softly, biting her lip to keep from expelling everything that was running through her mind.

"What are yeh doin-" he paused a moment, looking curiously toward Lily, who sat staring up at him with the same bemused look on her features. He righted himself and spoke again. "What're yeh doin' here?"

"Just visiting my aunt," Annabelle said, thinking quickly to come up with a story to tell the pirate. She invented an entire ordeal, claiming that she and

Jacob had gotten into a row, which in turn caused her to storm out, taking her daughter with her. But as she hadn't been in Port Royal in years, she had no where to go. So she wandered into this pub until she could cool down.

"I didn' know yeh had a daughter," Jack replied simply, pulling up a chair and sitting lazily across from them.

"Yes well…I don't see how you would," Annabelle replied, trying to come off as cool as possible toward the man in front of her.

"An' wha' might yer name be, Little Miss?" he turned and asked Lily, sounding surprisingly kind.

"Lily," the girl replied shyly, her eyes darting between the pirate and her mother. "Lily Rose."

Jack looked toward Annabelle in shock, his mouth slightly open.

"Jacob agreed to the naming," Annabelle said softly. "it rather fits her."

Jack rubbed his chin tiredly, glancing at the small girl once again. "Well she's a pretty one, I'll give 'er tha'."

Lily grinned at the man, obviously taken with him. "What's your name, sir?" she asked sweetly.

Jack gave a tired grin to her. "No need for no 'sirs' here, missy. It's just Jack to yeh."

"Nice to meet you, Jack," Lily stuck a small dark hand out, intending Jack to shake it.

Surprising her, he took her petite hand and placed a light kiss about her knuckles. Lily visibly blushed as she pulled her hand back from him. Annabelle could not help but to smile at her daughter's enthrallment with Captain Sparrow. Annabelle took the light air about the situation to ask where they would be headed next, as she'd like to start communicating again.

"I'll be 'eading out to Spain tonigh'. Lizzie, Hector an' I 'ave some business to attend to."

"Lizzie? Who's Lizzie?" Annabelle asked, rather upset at the thought of Jack having a new lover.

Jack laughed at her concern. "Though once I thought there was chance, do not worry, luv, she's naught but a friend. She's married to tha' whelp Turner. Lord knows why, since they only see each other every ten years. Either way…"

"You mean that you're sailing with the Pirate King? Queen, I mean?" Annabelle asked.

"Yes, I am. It's not as exciting' as it sounds, luv." Jack winked at her, rising from the table.

"Do yeh think it'd be any trouble escorting me to my ship?" he asked, stretching his arms out, and tucking his hat over his face.

Annabelle rose, pulling Lily with her. They walked out together into the night, which had become slightly chilly. As they approached the Pearl, Jack turned to them, bidding them goodbye.

"Until next time, my dears," he said grandly, kneeling down to Lily and placing a light peck on her cheek. Again, her blush was rather obvious. And as he embraced Annabelle, her chest tightened. She did not want him to let her go. But as she knew, he did. He smiled at them both, and smoothly entered the water to swim to the Jacob's ladder that'd been lowered.

As Annabelle and Lily walked back to the Beast's Heart quietly. As they approached the vessel, Annabelle told her daughter sternly that they were not to talk about what happened with the Captain.

"Oh don't worry Mumma," Lily said reassuringly. "I would never tell. What would Papa think if he knew I kissed a pirate?" 


	14. Help in Unexpected Places

**Note:** _I'd like to dedicate this chapter to DaisyMay71, who was clever enough to guess Mary Hannigan's real life inspiration! Enjoy everyone!_

For six days the_ Beast's Heart_ followed the Black Pearl to Spain. Annabelle and her children were moved back to their original quarters for the time being, causing extremely high tensions. Roisin and Joseph were back on speaking terms, though all their conversations were short and rather formal.

On the morning of the sixth day, it seemed Joseph had had enough.

"This is stupid!" he shouted, throwing his half empty bowl of porridge against the wall, splattering a gooey pattern about it.

"Joseph!" Annabelle reprimanded, surprised at her son's behavior.

Joseph payed her no mind, rising from his cot and approaching Roisin. "What is your problem? What have I done to you? You'll barely even_ look_ at me!"

Roisin remained silent for a moment, staring at the stained and splitting wooden boards of the room before speaking. When she finally looked up, her eyes were burning with anger.

"I don't know if your walnut of a brain can comprehend this, but my mother is dead! And meanwhile, you're galumphin' about, drinkin' rum and havin' such great fun with the pirates that killed her. Not to mention, you decide it'd also be proper to go on and bed a whore while you're at it! Why should I want to look at you? You make me _sick_."

Instead of being deterred by this, it seemed to fuel Joseph's anger further. "What do you think they would've done if I didn't do what they said? They would've killed me without a second glance! I did what I had to to surive! And why do you care if I bedded someone or not? It's not as if we're married! Hell, you're four years older than me! There's no way I'd marry you! You're practically an old maid anyway!"

Roisin shot up from her seat, glowering down at Joseph, who was several inches shorter than she. "I'm going to give you five seconds to change your tone," her tone was deadly and waspish. "Or you'll get something much worse than the cold shoulder, you little bastard."

Joseph simply stared back at the girl, his chocolate gaze smoldering with anger under steely determination. After a long bout of this, he finally turned away, stalking out of the room. Roisin laid down on her cot in a huff, facing away from Annabelle and Lily, who had watch the row go down in relative shock. Annabelle rose from her cot and followed her son out to the poop deck, were he stood staring angrily out at the turqouise waters about the ship

"Joseph," she said carefully, stepping up beside her son. When she tried to place her hand on his shoulder, he shrugged away from her. "Joseph, that was uncalled for, you know that."

Joseph turned and glared at her, but it did nothing to phase Annabelle, who'd endured this treatment many times before. "Try and understand where she's coming from. Put yourself in her place."

"I loved her too," he replied, and Annabelle could hear true pain in his voice. He was talking about Mary.

"I know, and she knows that too. We all did. But imagine losing me the way that Roisin lost her mother. That's what she's feeling right now."  
Tears flooded the boy's dark brown eyes, though he tried to blink them back furiously. "This is so hard," he managed to get out before his mother enveloped him so as to hide his tears.

"I know," she soothed, stroking his dark auburn hair. "I know. I promise, I'm going to make this right. I swear it."

When Joseph had finally gained his composure, he pulled away from her, looking at her with puffy red eyes. "I didn't actually bed anyone, Mum. She took me to the room and I got scared when she kissed me. It didn't feel right. I guess she felt bad about me bein' so young and all, so she said we could just sit and pretend. Then I paid and left."

Annabelle chuckled slightly, imagining the sight in her mind. She bid Joseph back to their quarters, and strode up to the helm where she could get a better look at where they were headed. She could see nothing but clear blue water for miles. She sighed, walking back to check on the children.

It was almost dusk when they made port. She and the children were pulled back up to Jacob's quarters until they were given further instructions. Roisin was finally given a down of her own; a light green piece with lace about the collar and sleeves. Like Annabelle's, it was rather low cut. Annabelle and Lily helped to comb through all her light brown tangles, leaving it softer than before. Teach entered soon after, ready with orders for them.

"Teague's arrived here too," there was an edge of excitement to his rough voice. "You're to play totally innocent, understand? Pretend you're simply shopping in the market. Sparrow should come around soon, and if my intuition is correct, so will Teague. Be careful not to give yourselves away. And if anyone begins to speak to you in Spanish," he addressed Lily and Joseph, "just reply with '_No hablo espanol_.' Understand?"

Both children nodded, and soon they, Roisin, and Annabelle were all escorted from the vessel. Again Rusty was posted as guard, and was accompanied with the black man who had broken Jacob's ribs. They soon learned his name was Moses. As they walked down the dock, Annabelle took a quick look at the ships that were docked around them. One that caught her eye was the _Troubador_, a very well kept ship, but with a rather menacing air about it. She averted her gaze and set her sights on the open air market that seemed to be slowing business down for the night. She dared not to make eye contact with passing citizens, for fear that she might meet a confrontation. Just as she was looking about a cart of fruit, she heard a whisper to her left.

"Psst," it hissed. Annabelle turned tentatively, pulling the children closer to her. Its source was a young girl, no more than eighteen, feigning interest in the quilts on the stand next to them. Her light brown hair was tied in a thick braid that fell over her shoulder. She was rather tall for a girl, with slight figure. She wore a white blouse tucked into a dark blue skirt, which fell to her ankles. When she made eye contact with Annabelle, it was discovered that she held brown eyes. For some reason, she seemed familiar to Annabelle.

"I know why you are here," she said softly, edging closer to the group of foreigners. Her voice held a light Spanish accent. "I can help you if you come with me."

"I don't need any assistance," Annabelle replied tightly, sure that their pirate-guards were watching attentively.

"I know where Jack Sparrow is headed to next," the girl replied quickly, moving away from the stand and beckoning to them. "Please, let me help you."

Could this girl be lying? It seemed not, for how would she know the very person they were looking for? Annabelle gripped Joseph and Lily's hands, and Roisin pasted herself next to them like a shadow. Annabelle nodded to the girl and they tentatively followed her away from the market. They walked down a few back alleys before arriving at a quaint terra-cotta home. The Spanish girl held out a hand to stop them and whistled, a clear four note run. The door to the house opened slowly, and in the doorway stood a woman, dark and obviously Spanish. Her face was covered in a shadow due to the falling light. She beckoned for them to come inside. As they passed the threshold, she heard the woman speak.

"Rebekah, I'm impressed. You were quicker than I thought."

Annabelle, Joseph, Lily, and Roisin all sat in the small sitting room of the Spanish women's home. Annabelle felt rather nervous, though in the back of her mind she could not deny how familiar the girl, Rebekah, seemed to her. Finally she heard their footfalls coming into the room. As they sat in the room with them, Annabelle's breath hitched. The woman who had bidden them entrance looked almost exactly like Lily, the only exception being her eyes, which were a dark brown instead of blue. She smiled as she noted Annabelle's recognition.

"You're…you're…"

"Yes, I am Liliana Teague. Sister to the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. This is my niece, Rebekah." she gestured to the girl next to her. "I know why you have come here, and I want to help you." the woman's voice was warm and kind, and Annabelle had an unbidden thought in the back of her mind that she would be proud to see Lily grow up to be like this woman.

"How do you know-?"

"My sources are not important," Liliana replied, cutting Annabelle off with the flick of her hand. "What is important is how you are to escape the clutches of Henry Teach."

"That's harder than it sounds," Annabelle said, adusting her light blue skirts. "I cannot attempt anything too drastic, for he has my husband. If I don't do what he says, they'll kill him."

"Don't worry, dear sister, we will find a way. We just have to wait for the right opportunity to come." Liliana's voice was sly under her Spanish accent. "But first, introduce me to these lovely children of yours."

"I'm Lily!" Lily piped up, sticking her hand out the the Spanish woman. "Lily Rose Montel. It's nice to meet you."

Liliana brushed her dark hair back, resembling so much the hair that sat on the little girl's head and shook her hand formally, a smile on the corners of her full lips. She turned to Joseph next.

"Joseph Montel," he said, and Annabelle was surprised to hear a slight drop in the boy's voice. "It's a pleasure, ma'am."

She smiled slyly at the boy before turning to Roisin.

"Roisin Hannigan," the girl said, taking the woman's hand gracefully. "A family friend."

"Ah, I see," Liliana said softly, releasing the girl's hand lightly. "I expect you're all very hungry. I have food in the dining room, if you'll be so kind as to follow me."

The group obeyed, and aligned themselves around the circular dining room table. They feasted on meal of rice, beans, and some kind of meat wrapped up in a thin breading, with glasses of milk. After days of the rotting food aboard the_ Beast's Heart_, it was a welcome change in diet. They had just finished their meal and were sitting back in the parlor area when they heard the door open.

"Lily!" a deep, raspy voice called. "You home, luv?"

They heard footsteps lead all the way to the entrance of the sitting room, and stop abruptly.

"Anna?"

Annabelle looked up to see the confused face of Captain Jack Sparrow staring back at her. 


	15. Plans and Debts

_**Note; **__Hey guys! I am so so so so so so so sorry about the wait! With school, and extra-curricular stuff, I really haven't had time. I'll try to update as soon as possible. Again, I apologize for the wait! Love and best wishes to all of you who still look for my updates! 3_

"Jack?" Annabelle asked stupidly, as if the man weren't standing right in front her. "I…erm..I-"

"Who are you?" Joseph asked loudly, standing up and bearing menacingly at the pirate, who had him beat in height by a good six inches or so.

Jack ignored the boy, turning and approaching his sister. The dark woman looked unphased. He took her arm and turned her away, whispering furiously. Though the impression was to be discreet, his voice carried.

"Wha' the hell 'ave you been playin' at?" he asked, traces of worry and anger in his tone.

"I believe you and Lady Montel have much to discuss," Liliana replied, twisting from her older brother's grip and turning to the queue sitting behind them. She looked at Annabelle meaningfully, to which Annabelle stood rather awkwardly. As she approached the two, more footsteps could be heard from the front doorway.

"Jack?" a male voice called out hesitantly. "Jack? Are ya in there?"

Annabelle immediately recognized Joshamee Gibbs to be the owner of the voice. The portly man, looking as gray and harried as ever, his ponytail coming loose, came cautiously into the room. As he saw Annabelle, his dark hazel eyes widened with shock.

"M-Miss Crowe!" he spluttered, trying frantically to tie his hair into a more presentable state. "I-_we_ didn't expect you.."

"That's an understatement," Jack muttered under his breath, glaring at Liliana as he did.

Liliana stared back at him, her face as cool and smooth as marble, and his hurtful gaze faltered. Jack turned to Annabelle, standing mere inches away and whispered, "Wha' are yeh doin' here, Anna?"

"It's a story for a later time, Jack," Annabelle pleaded, her eyes darting quickly in the direction of her children.

Jack's eyes mirrored in the same direction as Annabelle's. A flash of recognition passed through his face as they rested on Joseph. Almost thinking that she imagined it, Annabelle saw the pirate's shoulders straighten slightly, an expression close to pride on his chiseled face. The rather strange moment was broken by another voice, this one distinctly feminine.

"Jack?" the mystery woman said, and the entire party of people turned to face the sound. A petite woman, her head peaking just over Jack's shoulder, stood in the sitting room doorway. Her golden brown hair was braided under a small, black tricorn hat, and she was adorned in men's clothing. Annabelle suddenly recognized the woman to be the same one who saved Jack from the gallows in Port Royal, all those years ago. Her golden-brown eyes scanned the room apprehensively, and turned to Jack, an annoyed expression covering her face.

"What is going on here?" she demanded, her voice surprisingly delicate and proper despite the strength and volume coming from it now.

Jack seemed to flinch at the small woman's voice, turning away from Annabelle to fully face her.

"Lizzy," he said carefully. "it seems we 'ave a bit of a problem."

"And _what_ exactly is the problem, Jack?" the woman replied, her tone becoming clipped and waspish.

"We're not exactly sure," Gibbs interjected, still attempting to make his hair more presentable. "Yeh see, Miss Crowe here, she-er-well, would you like to explain Cap'n?"

The portly man turned to Jack, causing everyone's gaze to follow. Jack shot a sharp look at his first mate before addressing the angry woman.

"I think this is a story for a later time," Jack said blandly, echoing Annabelle's words.

"Si," Rebekah said, speaking for the first time since dinner. "I think I'm getting a little tired. Come, Lily, Roisin, I will show you your bed chamber for tonight." She pronounced Roisin as_ raw-sheen_.

Jack turned abruptly, giving his niece a soft smile. "Ello, Becky,"he said, and promptly began to act insulted. "Too old to give your uncle a kiss?"

Annabelle saw a smirk immediately emerge on the man's face as the girl approached, placing a kiss on his stubbly cheek.

"_Lo siento, Tio,_" she said softly. "It is wonderful to see you."

Jack brushed a lock of brown hair from her oval shaped face, smiling in a way that was almost fatherly. "Been too long."

Rebekah merely nodded, walking back and taking Lily's small hand, gesturing to Roisin to follow. As young Lily met Jack's eyes, her face flushed at an alarming rate.

"G'night," she mumbled, more of a whisper than anything.

As the three girls left the room, Joseph spoke again.

"Who the bloody hell are these people!" he shouted, walking to his mother and glaring at Jack.

"Joseph!" Annabelle reprimanded, looking sternly at her son. "You are wildly out of place!"

"S'alright, Anna," Jack said, contemplating the boy's indignant face. "He 'as a right to know." The pirate stuck out his hand to Joseph. "Captain Jack Sparrow," he said formally.

"Joseph Montel," the boy replied, still glaring, taking the outstretched hand firmly and shaking it.

"As much as I think yeh should be able to be privy to this impending conversation, I think tha' it's up to your mother," Jack inclined his head toward Annabelle.

"Go to bed," she said softly, her voice firm with twelve and a half years of mothering.

Joseph opened his mouth as if to speak and thought better of it, turning and stalking down the hallway after the girls.

Liliana strode over to a chair and sat gracefully. "It seems we have much to discuss."

Annabelle sat as well, occupying half of a loveseat, the other half holding Jack. Gibbs flopped down on a small pouf, one that looked as if it might not hold his weight for very long. 'Lizzy', chose to stand, her arms crossed over her chest, stance wide and almost masculine.

"I believe Lady Montel must be the one to begin," Liliana purred, curling up within her chair and looking expectantly at Annabelle.

"Well, it started some time ago," Annabelle started, her voice shaking slightly. "A few weeks, maybe a month, I'm not sure how long we'd been there…"

As she continued the tale, she saw Jack's features tighten in anger, and Lizzy's eyes widen. Mister Gibbs looked as if he'd been hit in the face with a brick, and Liliana's face remained passive, as if she had heard the story before, despite the fact that Annabelle had said nothing to her.  
When she was finished, she looked down at her pale blue skirt, feeling ashamed. Jack had begun pacing at this time. Annabelle's face gained a slight flush, knowing that Lizzy would figure out why Teach had known Jack would come to her rescue. She was correct.

"You mean that…that…?" her eyes moved to the hallway that the the children had disappeared into and then flitted to Annabelle's face. Instead of throwing out what could have easily been a sharp and hurtful judgement, the fair woman took the spot on the love seat where Jack had been, taking Annabelle's pale hands in her own.

"I'm so, so, sorry," she said, her voice taking a very gentle tone. "I know how you must feel."

Annabelle felt very dubious about that. Lizzy must've been able to tell, for she pulled a large, worn, golden locket from underneath her white blouse and unlatched the clasp. Inside was portrait of a man and a young toddler, presumably a boy, sitting in his lap. They both had the same dark blonde hair, and dark inquisitive eyes. Despite the rather crude design and painting skill, here was no doubt they were related. Annabelle looked up into Lizzy's eyes and saw golden brown pools of love and regret.

"Billy was three when we paid for that portrait," she said, looking down affectionately at the picture. "He's thirteen now. It's been ten years since he and his father have been in the same country, let alone the same room. Our family can never be truly whole because of choices someone made years and years ago."

Annabelle felt an intense pang of empathy for this pirate woman. Having lost Jacob to war for eight years, she knew exactly of what the dear lady was speaking.

"I'm Elizabeth Turner," the woman said, stretching out a hand to Annabelle. "But feel free to call me Lizzy if you like. Everyone else seems to." she cast a sharp look at Jack, who smirked at the chastisement.

Annabelle's blue eyes widened at the name, recognition hitting her in the face like an anvil. "You're-you're the Pirate Queen?" she asked, slightly breathless.

"Yes," Elizabeth laughed, patting Annabelle's hand lightly. "Unfortunately."

"No one ever told me you had a family," she said, suddenly eager to hear more about the woman.

"Not many people know. It's for their safety. Though, Will can take care of himself quite well. Being captain of the Flying Dutchman usually keeps the rogues at bay."

Annabelle felt another flash of shock run over her. She was just about to say something when Jack interrupted.

"Enough with the introductions!" he snapped, stopping in front of the women. "We 'ave to get out of 'ere!"

"What about us, Jack?" Annabelle asked, standing abruptly. "You can't just leave us!"

Jack looked dumbfounded for a moment, his chocolate eyes confused. He recovered quickly, replying, "Yeh'll come with us, of course."

"Jack," Annabelle said desperately. "If we leave with you, Teach will kill Jacob! He only let him on board on my request. He is alive because I've been following his orders. I will not let him die!" her voice had risen to a shout by this time. She had come to the point where hysterics were necessary, and the privilege to shout had been denied to her too long.

Jack completely took her by surprise when he pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Her head laid just above his heart, and she could hear its frantic beating. Despite its wildness, it calmed her fear and desperate guilt.

"Shhh," he consoled her, his warm breath brushing her auburn hair.

Her breath slowly calmed, and her fingers gripped the thick fabric of his shirt, clinging steadfast to his voice, his warmth, his scent. When he released her, she felt an eerie emptiness inside of her. Jack turned to Elizabeth and Gibbs, and said firmly, "Back to the Pearl, both of yeh. I'll inform yeh of our course in the morning."

Both first mate and Queen exited without a fuss, disappearing into the newly fallen night. Jack approached his sister and leaned down, whispering quickly into her ear. Liliana nodded smoothly, looking into her brother's eyes deeply before rising as well.

"I shall let you say your goodbyes," Liliana addressed them. "Good night to you both."

As she exited the room, Jack turned to Annabelle, taking her wrist and leading her to the front door. He stood stiffly, all his energy coiled inside, looking as if he didn't know whether to bolt from her sight or stay exactly where he stood with her.

"Jack," Annabelle began, unsure of what to say. "I-"

Warmth and light bombarded her body.

Jack Sparrow's lips covered hers before she could even finish her sentence. All of his tense muscles relaxed, and Annabelle could feel his energy coursing through her. She felt something else, too, though a name was too frightening to place at that moment. When he released her, he bundled her body up against him, his arms enfolding her. She breathed in salt water and rum and faint traces of oranges. She buried herself in the smell of him.

Jack lifted her chin up, so that their eyes met.

"I will not lose yeh," he whispered. "And I will not let that man die on my account, either. I owe yeh much more than this, but it's a start."  
He disentangled their bodies and opened the door. Before leaving, he planted a soft peck on Annabelle's head. She swore she could feel the impression of his lips in her auburn curls.

With that he sauntered into the darkness, the moon shining a faint path of pearl down the walkway from the door. As he disappeared past the trees at the front of the property, Annabelle whispered softly, hoping her voice would carry on the light breeze.

"_Thank you_." 


End file.
